


When I'm With You

by Amuto_Shipper_Forever, Ariella (Amuto_Shipper_Forever), BlueUmbreon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff (eventually), Frisk is Selectively Mute, Frisk is gender-Neutral (we'll use pronouns they instead of he/she), INDEFINITE HIATUS, M/M, Monster Hating groups, Our First Fanfic, Overprotective Sans, Past Rape, Post-Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader MAY have an eating disorder, Reader has arachnophobia, Reader has body dysmorphic disorder, Reader has depression, Reader is punny, Reader took ASL, Reader-Insert, Semi-Slow Burn, Skelepuns, Story takes place in Minnesota, Takes place in senior year of college, but it'll probably end, eventually, reader has anxiety, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuto_Shipper_Forever/pseuds/Amuto_Shipper_Forever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuto_Shipper_Forever/pseuds/Ariella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueUmbreon/pseuds/BlueUmbreon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are in your senior year at college. School life has never been easy for you because you’ve never quite liked socializing. With social anxiety preventing you from taking part in most conversations, you sort of have trouble making friends. All that changes when you get a job at Grillby’s as a waitress and meet Him. The one. The small pun-making skeleton sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes your heart flutter. All you want is to be with him, all the time, everyday. But how will you tell him when the thought of starting a conversation with anyone fills you with dread?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Fangirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mew Mew Kissy Cutie is a manga in this story, (but also an anime maybe.) We may or may not add more tags to the story later. Our uploading scedule will probably be limited to once a week until summertime, where we'll try to upload (hopefully) every other day. While it mentions the reader worrying about being fat, there is absolutely nothing wrong if you or anyone else is. The reader has body dysmorphic disorder, which is where she constantly worries about a "flaw" (which isn't a flaw at all, really.) The reader thinks it's bad if she's fat and doesn't want to be because she worries about what other people will think, but the reader herself really doesn't mind or care about how other people look. The poor reader, I'm sorry for torturing you. Sorry we're bad at chapter titles :P

You woke to your alarm yelling at you to get up. You sit up and check the time. 9:27. Great, only 33 minutes to get ready and get to your first period. Giving a heavy sigh, you pat the alarm clock, trying to find the off button, and shut down the alarm. You roll out of bed and go into the kitchen to find an already-awake Temmie cooking breakfast. Temmie looks up at you. You give her a tired smile and sit down.  
“Hey, Temmie,” you say to your roommate.  
“h0I! H0w yoU sLEep?” You’re greeted with an overly enthusiastic voice. 4 years of knowing Temmie and her way of speaking never fails to make you smile.  
“I slept well, you?”  
“TeMmiE g0t uP EaRLy T0 MaKE bReakFaSt f0R ______!” Temmie said happily. “teMMiE MAdE PanCaKEs!”  
“Thanks, Tem,” you say with your mouth already full of the pancakes.  
“D0eS _______ liKe THe PaNCakES??” she inquires, hoping for approval.  
“Yeah! Tem, they are amazing!” You exclaim. Temmie smiles, wider than before.  
“YAy! TemMiE diD GUd!” As temmie cleans up your now-dirtied dish, you head to your room to change into clothing acceptable for school. You put on a long-sleeved blue shirt with the words “Keep Calm and Carry On” on it and a pair of dark denim skinny jeans. You pause to look in the mirror, pulling up your shirt to reveal your stomach. You know you aren’t fat, far from it in fact, but you can’t help feeling insecure when wearing tight-fitting shirts. You pull off the shirt and exchange it for a looser one. You take a look again, turning to the side. You suck your stomach in and sigh, wishing you had a flat stomach. You relax and sigh, walking out of your room.  
You get to first period, only to find that there are two new students, both monsters. One of them is a blue… fish-woman? She has fin-like ears and red hair tucked into a ponytail. One eye is yellow with slitted pupils, like a cat, while the other is covered with an eyepatch. She’s wearing a black muscle tank top with greyish-blue jeggings. On her feet are red shin-high boots with a yellow trim around the top, which is folded over. She has a devious expression and is talking to the other monster, a short yellow lizard-dinosaur-like being with an anxious expression. The lizard-dinosaur is wearing what looks like a lab coat, along with glasses. For some reason, she reminds you of a scientist. Maybe it’s the lab coat, or maybe it’s just the aura she gives off.  
You want to talk to them, but the thought of striking a conversation with them sets off your internal panic button. So many things could go wrong if you talked to them. You could say something stupid, or give the wrong impression. The last thing you want is for them to think you’re a monster hater. You were really fine with monsters being on the surface, it’s just that sometimes other humans are assholes, and you didn’t want the two monsters to think you were one of them. You walk quietly past them, giving them a small wave and a nervous smile. You take your usual seat in the back of the class, the one surrounded by empty chairs. You pull out a manga book and open up to the last page. (In manga, you start reading on the last page and work your way up to the first.) You enjoy a few minutes of silent reading before you realize the fish monster and lizard monster have sat next to you.  
“U-u-um… I-I… I n-noticed that y-y-you’re r-reading manga, a-and I…” The lizard starts sweating and looking nervous. “I wanted t-to know w-w-what m-manga that is?” she says in a questioning tone before hiding her face in her hands. You can understand how she feels. Sometimes all you want to do after conversing is hide in your room and never go out of your home again, afraid that if you do, you might mess up more conversations, mess up more people’s lives.  
“H-h-h-h-hello?” Her stuttering gets worse and you can see the anxiousness in her eyes, the worry that she might have said something wrong.  
“Oh… Yeah, it’s… Um… It’s-it’s called Mew Mew Kissy Cutie,” you say in a barely audible tone. Crap. Crap.They probably have never even heard of the manga and you sound like a total geek right now.You should have spoken louder. Maybe they couldn’t even hear you at all and they think you’re ignoring them or scared to talk to them or-  
“MEW MEW KISSY CUTIE?!?!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the same voice you heard before, but there’s no stuttering this time. You look up to see the yellow lizard grinning from ear to ear. “I LOVE THAT ANIME- I MEAN MANGA!!! I’VE SEEN BOTH AND OH MY GOD! WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PART? MINE IS HOW IN THE FOURTH CHAPTER EVERYONE GOES TO THE BEACH!!! AND SHE BUYS ICE CREAM FOR ALL OF HER FRIENDS!!!! BUT IT'S SNAIL FLAVOR AND SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO WANTS IT!!!!!! IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS IN THE MANGA BECAUSE IT'S ACTUALLY A VERY POWERFUL MESSAGE ABOUT FRIENDSHIP AND-” she gets cut off by the sound of the teacher clearing his throat. You turn your head back to the front of the room and try to pay attention, but your mind keeps drifting off… You can already tell that today will be a good day. Who knows? Maybe you’ll make friends with the two new monsters. The thought of making new friends fills you with  
D E T E R M I N A T I O N.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if we suck at this here have an annoying dog  
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> Anyways, Thank you guys for reading, comments are appreciated! We are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	2. Offence and Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're on your way to lunch when you run into a monster-hating group, bullying the two new monsters. What do you do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm really bad at coming up with chapter names and summaries. Here have a cookie to make up for my horrible summarizing and chapter-naming skills.  
> -Ari- (I'll just refer to myself as Ari since Ariella is my pseudonym.)

A few hours later, the lunch bell rings. You gather your things and head out the classroom door, ducking your head and making yourself as small as possible in the sea of hungry students. You can hear the usual chattering and small talk between friends, but with something more. There are a few voices louder than the others, yelling of words that you can’t quite make out. Strange, you think. Usually the people here are peaceful, and they don’t shout very often. You get a pit in your stomach that makes it’s way up to your throat. You stand on your tip-toes to see what the commotion is about, but you’re still too short to see. You’re only 5’3, and standing up as tall as you can, even on your tip-toes, only adds an inch or two. You hurry through the crowd of students trying your best not to push or elbow anyone. With every step the feeling of panic grows. Your head starts pounding with bursts of pain, a sign of an oncoming panic attack.  
You get to where the source of the yelling appears to be coming from, the room before your eyes wavering in interchanging, sparkly and blurry shades of red, green, blue, and purple. You feel dizzy and can’t walk very well, overcome with panic, but you make your way, slowly but surely, through the crowd to see what was happening. The anime-loving monster from earlier is in the center of the commotion, covering her face and shaking. You can see beads of sweat forming on her face. The fish monster is there too, comforting the lizard monster while shooting glares that could kill at the person slightly behind them, the one who seems to be causing all the drama. The lump in your throat grows bigger, piled with sadness and worry and dread. You shift your gaze slightly to the taller kid behind the scared monster. Your breath stops for a moment and your heart skips a beat. Derrick. Of course. How could you think it would be anyone else. Derrick, the leader of the schools biggest monster-hating group, yet the only one the teachers don’t know about and haven’t done anything to stop. Derrick, the most racist-to-monsters kid in school. In other words, the only person you hate.  
You listen to what he’s saying. He isn’t just teasing them. He’s threatening them, scary threats that you know he’ll carry out if given enough power and little supervision. Threats to beat them up, get them kicked out of school, get them locked away in prison. Threats to kill them, but not only them. Their families too, “if they haven’t already disowned them.” God, where is a teacher when you need one? You know that you have to jump in. You know getting in between them could cause you to get beat up, but you don’t care. You take a small step forward then stop. You still can’t see very well, due to the shimmering colors and dizziness from your ongoing panic attack. You close your eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath and letting it out. You take another step forward, then another, hands clenched into fists at your sides. Quickly and clumsily, yet still staying silent, you take the last step to the front of the crowd. Derrick hasn’t noticed you yet, but the fish monster glances at you and you can see she’s thankful you’re here. Gritting your teeth, you go to stand behind Derrick, where he can’t see you.  
“Stop,” you say in a voice you didn’t know you could manage. A low, unwavering voice with a hint of danger.  
“Why should I?” Derrick replies, sneering and turning to you.  
“Why should you?” You say quietly, but still in the same voice as before. “I’ll tell you why you should stop. You should stop because I’m a black belt in taekwondo, and I can think of 27 different ways to throw you, knock you to the ground, or knock you out. I know the exact point on your neck to press to paralyze you from the neck down, and I can counter all of your kicks and punches. Before you go and attempt to hurt me or my friends, or any monsters for that matter, maybe you should take a step back and look at your competition.” Shit. You called them your friends, yet you barely know them. They probably think you’re some weird freak. Oh well, you think. Just another mess-up out of billions.  
“Ha,” Derrick says, sneering. “You’re all talk and no action. Empty threats, that’s what those are. So you really can beat me in a fight? Prove it.” He spits out the last two words in a menacing tone, before throwing a punch straight to your face. Already anticipating his moves, you grab his wrist with one hand while bringing a powerful ridge-hand strike to the part of his arm between his elbow and his shoulder, simultaneously kicking him in the stomach, causing him to double over. You pull his arm so that it’s vertical behind him, making it difficult for him to get out of your hold. You allow yourself to let out a laugh, a small puff of air and how hard he’s struggling to free himself, and how terribly it’s working out for him.  
“So what’s it going to be? You asked me to prove it. Remember what I said before?” You pause, looking at his face, now bright red from embarrassment. “Do you want me to throw you, sweep you, or knock you to the ground?” You wait patiently for him to answer.  
“Get the fuck off me, bitch,” is the reply.  
“I may be a bitch, but I have more intelligence and wit than you and your entire gang combined. Keep that in mind next time you decide to mess with me, or any one of my friends.”  
That was the best fucking line you have said in your entire life. After saying this, you stick a foot in front of both his legs, keeping your grip on his arm, and sweep him. This way he isn’t too hurt, but he learns a lesson. He attempts to stand up, but you quickly put a foot on his back, stopping his feeble attack.  
“Oh, and Derrick?” You remove your foot from his back and use it to turn him to face you. “Fuck you.” With that you turn away and walk over to the 2 monsters, The fish monster looks at you with a facial expression composed of what looks like amazement, surprise, and admiration. She regains her composure and pulls you into a loose headlock and gives you a noogie.  
“OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO FUCKING AWESOME!!!! THAT WAS GOOD SHIT!!! YOU HAVE GOT TO SHOW ME SOME OF THOSE SELF DEFENSE MOVES SOMETIME!!!” the fish monster says, practically shouting into your ears. She lets go of you and holds out her hand. “I’m Undyne,” she tells you. “This is my girlfriend Alphys.” Alphys, the lizard/dinosaur monster, smiles shyly at you.  
“I’m ______. It’s nice to meet you!” You say politely. You glance at the clock in the now empty hallway. “We should probably head to lunch before it’s over.”  
“Sure. Hey, wanna sit with us?” Undyne asks you.  
“Y-y-yeah. Y-you should s-s-sit with us. I-i-i-f you w-w-want t-to, I mean.” Alphys says.  
“Of course! Thank you,” you say.  
“We should be thanking you! You totally saved our butts there.” Undyne says, giving you a pat on the back that’s more like a slap. You blush furiously.  
“N-n-no! I-I’m sure you guys would have… um… you would have had it handled,” you mutter, your rush of confidence from earlier already coming off like paint crumbling off of an old building.  
“Nah. We needed you. And besides, that was like, totally amazing! The way you stepped in and totally wrecked that guy, THAT is definitely a form of art,” she says excitedly.  
“A-actually… It kind of is, in a way. It’s martial arts, like karate or kung fu,” you inform her, desperately hoping you aren’t coming of as a stuck up know-it-all, just trying to brag about how much you know. Luckily, Undyne and Alphys don’t seem to think anything of what you said, other than that it sounds pretty cool.  
You, Alphys, and Undyne arrive at the cafeteria. You take a tray and get a taco, adding a salad, some fruit, and a small carton of milk to the side. You take your tray piled with food to the register and at the last moment grab a chocolate chip cookie, your favorite. You go to sit at the emptiest table and wait for Undyne and Alphys to sit down next to you. When you all finish eating, you dump the leftover food and tray in the recycling and leave the cafeteria.  
“H-h-hey… um… _-_____?” Alphys says timidly.  
“Yeah?” you ask, prompting her to continue.  
“I-I was just… um.. W-w-wondering i-if you… uh… um… m-maybe wanted to… um… come to our dorm???” She says the last few words quickly and hides her face in her hand.  
“Yeah, we have, like, a huge collection of anime and manga you could check out, and we could play a few video games. Do you like Left 4 Dead?” She asks you.  
“YES!!! That’s one of my favorite video games!” You say excitedly.  
“Awesome! Mine too!!!” Undyne says, a big shit-eating grin spreading across her face.  
“Just to warn you, I totally kick ass in that game.” and with that, you head to the student dorms building, a feeling of happiness settling in your chest and replacing the lump of fear and anger that previously clogged up your throat.  
Knowing that you’ve made new friends fills you with...  
D E T E R M I N A T I O N

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAY UNDYNE!!! \\(°U°)/  
> Her dialogue is very fun to do (Hint, hint, i do it) :P  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	3. New Job, New Friends, New Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You come across a flyer for a restaurant that just happens to be hiring. You apply for a job, and while you're there, you end up meeting a certain short skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!! The reader get's to meet Sans in this chapter, thankfully. What will happen between them??? I still don't have an answer to that question.... We'll find out in later chapters! 2k words this chapter!  
> ~Ari

“HA! I TOLD YOU I KICKED ASS IN THIS GAME!” You yell, pumping your fist victoriously.  
“Ah, come on, punk! Take it easy on us! We just got this game,” Undyne says, mimicking a whiny voice.  
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I get pretty competitive.”  
“Really? I haven’t noticed.” Undyne replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but she still has a smile on her face. “You should probably get back to your dorm, nerd. Ya wouldn’t want to be out after curfew,” she says after glancing at the clock.  
“Awwww! One more game?” You ask pleadingly while giving puppy dog eyes. Undyne snorts at that.  
“What, so you can win again? Not a chance. Besides, you only have 10 minutes to get back to your dorm room. Won’t your roommate be worried about you?” she grins, knowing she convinced you. You sigh, not wanting to admit she was right. You get up and walk to the door, turning to wave goodbye.  
“Thanks for letting me come over. See you in class tomorrow!” You say with a smile. Exiting their dorm, you turn to your right only to run into Jessica, Derrick’s snobby girlfriend. You step back.  
“S-sorry. I… um… I didn’t see you there,” you stutter, anxiety closing over you. She smiles a sickly sweet smile, one you know all too well to be fake, adding a fictitious laugh along with it. She ignores your apology and glances at your shoes, which just so happen to be your favorite navy blue converse.  
“Hun, are those shoes, or did someone throw up on your feet?” she says in her signature pure-sugar voice, the voice that makes you want to barf. Her smile changes to a disapproving frown. You brush it off.  
“I would say the same, except for… well, your entire body,” you gesture. You wave your hand in front of your nose. “And… did you just walk out of a garbage can? Certainly smells like it.” She gives an exaggerated gasp.  
“I’ll have you know that this is a $1,700 designer outfit and you can only buy this perfume in Russia. It costs more than what you make in a year from your puny job as a… what was it? Fast food server?” you keep a straight face, hiding your sadness and annoyance.  
“What do you want, Jessica? And make it quick. I have things to do, unlike someone I know,” you say with a threatening tone.  
“I just came here to warn you. Watch your back, _____. We wouldn’t want to have any… incidents happen to a certain monster supporter.” With that she turns on her too-high, too-sparkly, and too-pink heels and storms in the direction opposite your dorm. You sigh and rush back to your room to reassure Temmie that you’re okay, only to find she’s already fallen asleep on her bed. Going to the bathroom to brush your teeth, you notice a flyer on the kitchen counter that Temmie must have gotten earlier today. It’s advertising an open job at Grillby’s, the new monster-run restaurant next to the old coffee shop on campus. You’ve never been there, but you’ve heard they have the best burgers and fries in the state.  
You look at the bottom of the sheet where it shows the hours you’d be working. They have the perfect hours for a college student. You would be working from 5 pm to 9 pm, and would be paid $12.50 an hour. Not too bad, you think. Turning the paper over, you skim over the guidelines. To get the job, you need to have experience serving food. Since you worked at a fast food place, you figured that counted as serving food. The rest of the back is empty. Was that really it? You only needed experience serving food? It almost seemed too good to be true. You decided to apply for the job tomorrow after school. You set the flyer back down and brush your teeth. You then go to your room, set out your outfit for tomorrow, and go to sleep.  
_______________________________________

The next day, your classes seem to take longer than usual due to your nervousness and excitement to apply for the job. You eat lunch with Undyne and Alphys and talk with them about your favorite anime. When you get back from your last class at 2:30, you speed through your homework before going to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. You change into some more formal, yet still casual, clothes. Grabbing your keys, you go to your car and drive to Grillby’s. Your mind drifts off into your thoughts. I bet they won’t like me. I’ll come off as too shy, or too mean, or just really incompetent, you think. I’m such an idiot. Why did I ever think to apply for this job? I’m obviously not going to get it. There many more people that surely would be better at this. Maybe I should just turn around… No, you mentally scold yourself. Before you can think any more negative thoughts, you arrive at Grillby’s and pull into the parking lot. You check the clock in your car. 4:43. Perfect, just 2 more minutes until your interview.  
You stand up and smooth the dress you put on before entering the restaurant. You walk up to the bar counter. They bartender looks at you before asking you if he can help you.  
“Um… I have a job interview with Mr. Grillby. Where can I find him?” you ask nervously.  
“His office is behind the door to the right,” he replies politely.  
“Thanks,” you say. You turn to the right and walk to the door. As you move to knock on the door, you notice your hands and legs are shaking. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Everything will be okay, you tell yourself. Taking another deep breath, you knock on the door thrice.  
“Come in!” a deep voice calls. You turn the knob. Everything’s okay. It will be fine. If you don’t get the job, it doesn’t mean you’re worthless. You walk down the short hallway into the room. You’ll do great. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Just stay calm. You can do it. You sit down in the chair. You’ll get the job. You can do it, ______, you’ve got this. You smile at Grillby, who appears to be a… fireman? Firemonster? That is, a man made out of fire. He smiles back.  
“Okay. Let’s start with a simple question.” Oh no. You know for a fact that “simple questions” are never simple. “What is your name?” Oh. Phew. This question really is simple.  
“Oh… Uh.. M-my name i-is… um… ______,” you tell him, silently cursing yourself for stuttering.  
“Okay, ______, do you have any experience serving food?” he asks, giving you a patient smile.  
“Yeah. I currently work at a fast food place and I serve food there.”  
“Wonderful! And why do you want to work here instead of staying at your current workplace?”  
“Um, I uh, I guess I wanted to work in more of a… real restaurant, if you will? I wanted to expand my horizons,” you say while twisting a piece of your hair out of nervousness.  
“Hmmm… You seem like you would be a good employee! You’re hired!” he announces.  
“R-really? I-I am? Thank you! Thank you so much!” I actually got it! You think. It’s difficult to believe, but the pain of the small pinch you give yourself convince you that you really aren’t dreaming. Grillby stands up and holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it and give him a firm, professional handshake, or what you hope is professional.  
“Is it possible for you to start right away, today? We’ve been very busy lately,” he asks.  
“Of course! I would love to!” you happily oblige.  
“Perfect. We have a regular here who usually comes at around 5. You can start by serving him, if you please. You can work behind the bar for now.”  
“Okay. Thank you again, Mr. Grillby.” you repeat.  
“Ahhh, you can just call me ‘Grillby’,” he says with a smile.  
“Okay,” you say. You stand up and push in your chair. After leaving his office, you walk behind the bar counter and introduce yourself to the other bartender. After a few minutes, you hear the ding of a bell that sounds every time someone enters the restaurant. You glance at the door to see a short skeleton monster walk in. He’s wearing a blue sweatshirt and black shorts and… pink slippers? You shrug it off. It’s not your place to judge people’s choice of footwear. He sits down at one of the bar stools.  
“i’ll have a regular burger and fries. oh, and a bottle of ketchup.” he says with a big grin. You raise an eyebrow.  
“A whole bottle?” you question him.  
“yep.” You go to the kitchen to tell the cook the order. When the cook finishes making the burger and frying the fries, you put them on a tray along with a full bottle of ketchup and bring it to the skeleton.  
“thanks a ton. a skele-ton.” he gives you a wink. “i’m sans, by the way.” A silence stretches between you two.  
“O-Oh, um… I-I-I’m _-_-_-______. It’s nice t-to m-meet you.” You stumble over your words as if they were feet walking down a path and there was an invisible string waiting to trip them. Damn it, _______. Why do you always have to get so nervous around new people? Great. Marvelous first impression, ________. Just marvelous. Why were you getting so worked up about this anyways? You don’t know him, and you don’t have to associate yourself with him. You just have to serve him food. But didn’t Grillby say he was a regular? Oh god. You had to see him every night? Fuck. What a wonderful, wonderful impression you have just made. Maybe you should just quit, save yourself the embarrassment. That would be for the best-  
“are you okay?” a voice breaks you out of your thoughts.  
“H-huh? Y-y-yeah. Of c-course!” you say with a nervous smile, silently cursing yourself for your wavering voice. To your relief, Sans just shrugs.  
“okay. hey, can i have some relish to go with this? and maybe some mustard?”  
“Oh, uh… s-s-sure! Y-yeah, one moment. U-um….” You search under the counter and find the mustard and relish just behind the counter.  
“Do you want a full bottle of these, too?” you ask. You try to sound polite, but it comes out sounding slightly sarcastic. Oh well. At least you didn’t stutter.  
“nah, it’s cool. just a condiment cup full,” he says. You fill up two condiment cups, one with relish and one with mustard, and hand them to him. “thanks,” he says. You look up at his face to see the same grin he wore when he came in.  
“N-n-n-n-o p-p-problem! I-it’s my j-job,” you stammer. Damn it, why did you always do that? You glance at him, only to look back in slight disgust as you see him down half the bottle of ketchup, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He uses the rest of the bottle of ketchup to douse his burger and fries. Then he takes a huge, almost impossible bite.  
After he finishes, he wipes the ketchup and mustard from his skull.  
“hey, i think we mustard ketchup later,” he says with his shit-eating grin. You let out a small chuckle.  
“Yeah, I relish that idea,” you reply with a small smile of your own, while glancing pointedly at his now empty condiment cup of relish. You’re rewarded for your pun with an even bigger grin from the short skeleton. He gets up to leave after paying the bill.  
“see ya later, kiddo,” he says.  
“U-um, I-I’m not a k-k-kid,” you tell him in an attempted playful manner. He leaves Grillby’s and leaves you smiling to yourself, proud of your pun. Maybe it won’t be so bad seeing him everyday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaas finally Sans~  
> Bleh i’m tired but our school ends in about 8 days so we can post chapters more frequently so yay  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	4. Saviour in the Alleyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work day is over, but the main road back to campus is closed, leaving you to have to take a few alleyways. Oh well. You know self defense; nothing bad could happen to you... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahaha looks like the reader gets into a rather frightening predicament in this chapter. The plotline was begging for some drama, so I had to add some in! I just... took it out on the poor reader! It all gets better eventually. Do not worry, my lovely cinnamon rolls. Also, I know we said we would be posting new chapters once a week on weekends, the homework has died down a bit due to school ending in a short while, so we'll be sure to post a new chapter at least once a week, maybe more, but it probably will be on weekends and sometimes week days, like today. We are absolutely open to suggestions for things to add in future chapters, so leave a comment if there is something you would like us to incorporate (or to give feedback, which is also appreciated!)  
> -Ari-

9:01 pm. The tables are cleared, the chairs are empty. You’re scrubbing crumbs off the bar counter and the tables. Sans left 2 minutes ago. The other bartender left already, since his shift ends at 7:00 pm. Grillby is in his office.

9:17 pm. You’re setting out fresh bottles of ketchup and mustard at the tables and restocking the napkin holders. 

9:35 pm. You’ve finished cleaning the restaurant and setting it up for tomorrow. You grab your coat and scarf and open the door, making sure to lock the door and flip the sign to “closed.”

9:37 pm. The road leading directly home is blocked. The alleyway, the alleyway, the alley way. The only way home. Turning right, you trudge carefully down the road, keeping to the shadows, just in case. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one to have this idea.

9:39 pm. Thump. You aren’t alone. Someone’s here. The question is, who? Why? Thump, thump, thump, thump. Footsteps, behind yours. They’re a human’s footsteps, no doubt. You stop and they do too, just as they would in a horror movie. You stand there, taking a deep breath. You feel your pocket. Yes, there it is. You pull out your cellphone and-

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” a low, smooth voice sounds. You draw in a sharp, shaky breath. Breathe, you tell yourself. In- 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Out- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. You repeat this process a few times.

“And why not, exactly?” You say in the most dangerous tone you can muster. You remain facing away from the stranger. You straighten up and stand as tall as you possibly can.

“Because I have an entire gang of people who would love to- ahhh, what’s it called? Oh, yes! Teach you a lesson- on speed dial,” the person hisses. You can tell it’s a man.

“I see. But I have a-” at this you turn. “Advantage.”

“And what would that be?” He questions, feigning curiosity. He’s wearing a long black trench coat, the hem on the bottom reaching just past his knees, just like the movies. He isn’t wearing a hat and you can barely make out his eye colour: One eye is olive green and the other a dark brown, which is quite the contrast. He’s wearing black pants and black shoes. You make out an oddly shaped scar on his ankle. It’s shaped like a star. 

“Hmm.... try me and you’ll find out,” you say teasingly, trying to lighten up the situtation, though you know it’s not worth trying.

“Well, that sounds fun and all, but I really don’t think I have the time.” He checks his watch. “It’s too bad I won’t be able to find out.” He pulls out a gun and points it directly at your forehead. This makes you scream internally, but you keep a straight face on the outside.

“Is that all?” You toss your head back and laugh, a high pitched one that shows your anxiety. You hope he doesn’t catch on to this.

“No.” On that note he whistles and you see three men come up behind him, staying in his shadows and pointing their guns directly at your head. You wince, then regain your composure. Unfortunately, the man in front sees your momentary grimace. “Now, don’t tell me you still aren’t scared…?” he says with a questioning tone. Fuck. It would be the understatement of the year to say you were scared. You weren’t. You were downright terrified. Your knees are shaking and you notice you’ve been standing with them completely straight, so you relax them. Not that it helps with the shaking at all. What the hell are you supposed to do in these circumstances!? Sure, your taekwondo instructor told you how to knock a gun out of someone’s hand, but you’re too far away, and you have a feeling that if you take even one step towards the gang, someone will pull the trigger. And even if you were close, there were still three other men you would have to knock out. This was definitely not a good end to your first day at a new job. So what could you possibly do?

9:51 pm. Running, running, running. Right, left, left, right… left? Which way after that? You barely ever came this way to get back home from your old job. Only once, in fact, and -unsurprisingly- you never came across four people that wanted to murder you. You decide to chance it and take another right. Nope. Wrong choice, ______, wrong choice. You keep running and are met with a high, sturdy, stone wall. It’s completely smooth with absolutely no holes or grips whatsoever. It’s very dark out now; the light from the street lamps doesn’t reach this far off the main roads, so you only have the moon and stars for light which, coincidentally, are also mostly blocked by the tall skyscrapers. Great, what a wonderful way to die. You can’t see the four men anymore, but you can hear their loud footsteps and breathing, closing in on you.

“H-HELP!” you scream desperately, tears struggling out of your eyes. “SOMEBODY, PLEASE, PLEASE H-HELP M-M-ME!!”

“I’m afraid they can’t hear you, darling,” he coos in a fake happy voice. “Is there anything you’d like to say before you, how do you say it? Die?”

“N-NO! PLEASE HELP, SOMEONE!” you keep screaming.

“Quiet, child.” He hisses.

“I am not a child!” you huff, before remembering that he has a gun to your head. “S-S-SOMEONE! H-HELP! Help, help… h-h-h….” You can’t talk, for your tears consume you. You let out an ugly sounding sob and scratch blindly in front of you, abandoning any prior knowledge of self defense.

“I’d suggest you remain still if you want to live longer, though I cannot promise that ‘longer’ is much more than a minute or two.” his voice is in your ear, his gun is pressed hard against your temple.

“Why? W-why are you doing this? Why me? I’m just a nobody at some college in the middle of the state. There is n-n-nothing s-significant about me a-at all!” you choke on the last few words, trying to sound pleading and luckily succeeding in fighting the self hatred out of your voice.

“Ahhhh, but I see you work at Grillby’s,” he says. “And that is a monster-run restaurant, is it not?”

“W-well… y-yeah, but why does that-”

“Because,” he cuts you off. “This world is for humans, not,” he makes a face, “monsters.” At the word ‘monsters,’ his voice changes to one of utter disgust. “And you work there, with the monsters, and we even saw you talking with one of them, one of the monster customers. We can’t have any monster sympathizers now, can we?” he grins a menacing grins and orders one of his gang members to come up and press the gun against the other side of your head.

You still have your phone in your hand, but the men seem to have forgotten this detail. You feel relieved, put push the feeling down and continue crying and pleading for them to let you go, yet secretly glancing down and pressing the “Emergency” button on the phone. You turn down the volume and repeat a few of your questions and comments to the gang such as “Why are you doing this?” and “Please… please let me go!”, praying that the officer on the other end can hear their answers. Before you can get another one in, you hear someone shout.

“Hey, punks! Let her go!” a familiar voice cuts through you begs of mercy and their threats.

“Ha, and why should we?” the gang leader’s second in command says. You squint into the distance at the figure. You’ve seen her somewhere…. Oh! It’s Undyne! You allow yourself a small smile, before the anxiety sets in. Shit, she’ll probably think you’re just a fragile, weak nobody. 

Undyne is silent, but you see something long and blue appear by her side. It’s a… arrow? A spear? She grabs it and points it at the gang leader. She steps closer.

“That is just a spear, my dear… enemy. It is but nothing compared to our guns,” the gang leader says with a sneer.” Undyne takes another step, then another. Soon she has the tip of the spear pointed at the heart of one of the gang members further away from you. You can feel electricity radiating off of the spear, even from a few feet away.

“G-gah!” the gang member tries to step back, only to find that there’s a large rock behind him and he trips, falling over in the process. He’s clutching at his heart, but you don’t see even a tiny rip in his shirt.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. She didn’t even touch you,” the second in command shouts at the fallen member.

“Hush,” was all the gang leader said.

“N-no!” he’s still clutching at his heart. “I-it’s electric. It stings,” he lets out a hiss of pain. The second in command lowers his gun from your head and goes to help the other member. 

“Leave. Her. Alone.” Undyne growls, poking the spear towards the heart of the other gang member that was farther away from you. You can tell she’s trying hard to refrain from stabbing him.

“U-u-undyne, um… uh… I’m okay, really. D-don’t… um, t-trouble y-yourself over m-m-me,” you manage to choke out. She just stares at you, refusing to lower her spear, which had just caused the other gangster in front to fall backwards, much like the first one.

“Are you kidding, nerd? You were about to die! No one harms one of my friends and gets away with it. NGAHHH!!!” she shouts and points her spear at the final member, leader of this group of hooligans. The spear is at his side so as to make sure it’s not too close to you, but you can still feel energy and electricity emitting from the spear. It isn’t close enough to actually hurt, but it makes your skin buzz and feels almost like if it were to get any closer it would cut you open. The head of the gang breathes harder, but remains fairly silent. His grip on you loosens enough for you to slip from his bruising grasp, and you grab his gun from his shaking hand. He slumps to the ground, clutching his side where the spear touched. 

“Th-thank you! So, so much!” you’re about to burst into tears again.

“Ngah, it’s nothing, nerd,” Undyne says. You stare at her in astonishment, about to go into a cheesy “Are you kidding? You saved my life! You are the only reason I am here right now, and I can’t thank you enough!” spiel, but you decide not to, and instead go for something shorter and less corny.

“Well, u-u-um, thank you a-anyway,” you say. Ah, fuck, that sounded like you were mad at her. Fortunately for you, she didn’t seem to notice. She leads the rest of the way back to campus and you trail in silence for a bit before asking, “How did you know I was in trouble?”

“I could hear a faint shouting, and could sense something was wrong,” she replies. You decide to ask one more question.

“H-hey Undyne?”

“Yeah, punk?”

“Uh… um, how… how did you g-get that spear? I-I-I mean, you d-didn’t have it when you came, and it k-kind of just… appeared.”

She laughs. “Monster magic. Most monsters have it. Sans and Papyrus can summon bones, just like I can summon spears.” Wait… Sans? Isn’t that the monster from Grillby’s, the one who drank ketchup? You must have looked confused because she adds, “Oh, I forgot. You don’t know Sans or Papyrus. They’re my friends. Maybe you’ll meet ‘em someday.” 

“So… So you summon spears, a-and Sans and Papyrus summon bones?” You’re still trying to comprehend the ability to literally summon objects out of thin air. It makes sense, considering Sans is a skeleton. Does that mean that Papyrus is a skeleton too? Hmmm… It isn’t worth worrying about now, you decide.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool,” Undyne tells you. “You should see Sans’ gaster blasters. They’re totally sick!” ...Gaster blasters? Did you even want to know what those are? They sounded like a strange name for… Undyne notices the slightly grossed out look on your face and seems to comprehend what you’re thinking. “Oh my god, no! Gaster blasters kind of look like skulls, but they have lasers that shoot out of them.”

“Th-that does sound pretty c-cool!” you say. Undyne agrees and you two walk the rest of the way in silence. You part ways when you get to the hallway with your dorm and say a quick goodbye and another thank you.

“Don’t sweat it, punk. And you should probably file a report to the police tomorrow morning,” she advises you. You nod and step into your dorm. You brush your teeth and change into pajamas before laying down in your soft bed. You replay today’s happenings over and over in your mind, then think back to Undyne’s advice. Should you really file a police report? Many police aren’t very fond of monsters and some even hate them, though they wouldn’t kill one of them unless it was for a good reason, seeing as they have to keep their jobs. Still, your situation did happen because you worked and talked with monsters, so the police might see it as reasonable and let the gang off with only a warning. Would it really be worth it? The gang might just come after you again, or even after your new monster friends, and they wouldn’t hesitate to end your life, especially since they’d be even more angry that you were friends with the monster that interrupted their plan and beat them up. Of course, you’ll still be friends with the monsters. No gang will separate your friendships (though you don’t have many) and you much prefer monsters to humans. If anything, humans are more like monsters, or at least stereotypical monsters.

Your mind wanders for a while before you drift off into a [not-so-peaceful] sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleh idk what to do this time well than ill just put the regular ‘m sorry aaaaah O~o  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	5. Nightmares and Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a bad nightmare after a dreamless nights. A week later, you're at Grillby's and a certain someone comes in and.... let's just say your future doesn't look very good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is a lot longer than the others (4,500 words), but I figured it would make up for the lack of uploading in the past week and a half. Since I am a very evil person, I thought "You know,why not add more drama?" so there you go. Your welcome and apologies in advance. If you want to suggest ideas to incorporate in future chapters but you don't want them to be public (like through the comments) or something, my tumblr account is arigirl12345 (very original and not at all boring, I know), and you can send in ideas and suggestions and stuff. Just be sure to add something like "don't answer this publicly" or something (if you don't want your suggestion to be public because it's embarrassing or the thought gives you anxiety (I know how that feels) or you just don't want it to be public (P.S., this is not meant to be promotion for my blog. You guys don't have to follow it to send in an ask.)). Feedback is always encouraged to help us improve our writing! Thank you to everyone who is reading this fanfiction!  
> -Ari-

You wake up gasping for air tangled in your sheets. You’re breathing heavily and sweating as if you’ve been in a marathon… or been chased. Most likely the latter- though not literally- due to the fear that’s escaping through each short breath you exhale. Your heart is slamming against your chest frantically as if trying to escape its cage that’s flooding with panic.These feelings aren’t new to you, yet it still frightens you every time, which just happens to be every night. You turn on your phone to check the time. 2:56 am. You decide to check your email quickly to get your mind off of your… rather unpleasant dreams… Why is your phone on the weather app? You think back to the last time you turned on your phone and… Oh. You must have accidentally clicked the weather app when you meant to click the phone app and the emergency button that calls the police. Surprisingly, relief floods you. They didn’t hear your conversation with Undyne about monster magic, though you doubt they would still have been on the phone by then. It also explains why the police didn’t show up, though luckily Undyne came. But how did Undyne know you were in trouble? You’d have to ask her later, you decide. 

You decide to make breakfast to surprise Temmie. You get up when you realize your room is completely dark. Oh, that’s right. It’s almost 3 am. It’s definitely too early to be making breakfast. How could you forget something as simple as the time? Because you’re an idiot, ______. That’s why, you think to yourself. You can’t remember anything, which is probably why you don’t get straight A's in school. Add that to your mental list of things you’re bad at. Instinctively you open the drawer on your nightstand and reach blindly inside, feeling for… nothing. Right, once again you forgot. It’s for the better, you remember. You stopped that for a reason. Absentmindedly you run your finger up and down on your stomach, feeling the scars that you’ll have for the rest of your life. That was a terrible, terrible thing for you to do to yourself. You were so stupid, you are so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. You clench your hands into fists, digging your nails in further and further. 

“Dumbass,” they said. “Idiot,” “Ugly,” “Just asking for attention,” “Self obsessed,” “Annoying,” “difficult,” “weird.” With each memory of the negative remarks about you you’d heard from your previous classmates you dig your nails in further, squeeze your eyes shut harder, tremble a little more. “You shouldn’t even be alive, you bitch. Just kill yourself already and make life better for everyone. Stop being so selfish.” No. Stop. Stop thinking about those comments, especially the last one. You vowed never to think of him again. Not what he had done, not what he had said. You shake your head and are suddenly aware that your face is very wet from sweat, as well as from tears. In addition to that, you forgot to take off your makeup before going to bed yesterday so now your face is a monstrosity. You go into the bathroom to wash your face. You stare at the razor blade on the sink counter…. Stop it!.Before you can think anything else, you splash your face with cold water and massage the face wash into your face gently before washing it off again.

You dry your face with a washcloth and look in the mirror. Your eyes are red from crying and you’re still trembling slightly and your hair is messy. Ugly, ugly, ugly. You turn away and dash out of the bathroom. When you get into the room that you and Temmie share, you jump onto your bed as quietly as possible and hug your pillow, shaking and sobbing silently. Apparently you aren’t quiet enough, because you hear your roommate stirring. You quickly dry your eyes.

“Is ________ 0KaY?” Temmie asks and you can tell from her voice that she’s very concerned.

You manage a tiny, wobbly smile. “Y-yeah Tem! I-I’m w-w-wonderf-ful. I was just laughing because I thought of a funny pun I made earlier.” Temmie doesn’t buy it.

“_________ D0esN’T s0Und w0nDERFuL.”

“T-trust me Tem. I’m perfectly fine. I-I woke up really early and-and now everything s-seems funny, so I’m laughing really hard.” You pray that she doesn’t notice the shaking of your voice in addition to the usual stutter you have due to anxiety. She stares long and hard at you, her usual smile wavering with confusion and concern. In the end she decides to leave it alone. You thank her- telepathically, of course- for understanding. Sometimes it’s better not to talk about things for a little while. After all, you aren’t in immediate danger, and you don’t like talking about your mental illnesses or your nightmares. Luckily, Temmie knows that.

“HmMM… arE Y0u suRe y0u’RE 0KAy??”

“Yeah…” you trail off, shivering. Suddenly it feels extremely cold. “Yeah, I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry.”

Temmie just waves off your apology with a flick of her paw. “IT’s fINe. G00DnigHt _______.”

“G’night, tem.” Temmie lays back down and so do you. Soon you hear the familiar soft and slightly high-pitched snoring coming from the bed on the opposite side of the room as yours. You lay quietly and listen, attempting to take in deep breaths and failing. You’re still in a slight frenzy from the anxiety attack you woke up with from your nightmare, despite not even remembering what it was about. Even so, thinking about it fills you with dread.  
____________________________________________________________________________

You’re wiping the bar counter down from the last customer (who was particularly messy). Sans is sitting on the bar stool directly in front of where you’re standing, the same bar stool he’s taken everyday for the past week or so. You’ve come to realize that Sans is the regular Grillby talks about. He makes a pun about a burger, or something. Your mind is on other things and you aren’t quite listening well enough to know exactly what he’s talking- punning, if you will- about. You hear the bell chiming to let you know there’s another customer. You don’t think anything of it until you hear the click-clack of high heels and smell the pungent that could only belong to one person. 

The click-clacking noise comes closer. You continue to stare at the counter and wipe it, despite having finished cleaning it a minute ago. You hear a bar stool being pulled out and have to fight to not plug your nose from her perfume.

“Hey there, handsome,” the sickly sweet voice says in a flirty tone to… Sans? Wait… What the hell was she doing? She hates monsters as much as Derrick does, if not more. 

“um, hey?” Sans replies in a questioning tone. The girl giggles. It sounds lighthearted and airy, but you can tell it’s forced.

“I absolutely love your jacket!”

“oh, um, thanks.” Sans looks visibly uncomfortable and is leaning away slightly. Of course, the girl flirting with him ignores his closed off gesture and leans closer, running her hands on his arm. 

“please stop,” he says. The girl giggles again and pouts.

“Oh, come on, silly. You know you like it,” she purrs, continuing to run her hands up and down his arms, and now his chest. You know you should step in, but you’re frozen, hand still on the cleaning cloth and mouth slightly agape. You close your mouth and clench your teeth.

“J-j-jessica,” you say almost silently. She either ignores you, or she doesn’t hear you. Most likely the latter. “Jessica!” You say firmly, and maybe a little too loudly. She glances up with a disapproving, dagger-shooting glare. You let it bounce off you and turn to Sans.

“Why should I? He totally loves it!”

“Judging by the look he has on his face and the way he’s leaning practically all the way back, I highly doubt that.” Sans looks between you and Jessica, clearly confused as to how you know her, but still thankful.

“I thought you hated monsters, anyway. Why flirt with one? To get him to trust you so you can get Derrick to hurt him later on? Did Derrick send you here to pick on the first monster you see?” you stare her straight in the eyes as you speak. Her eyes slightly widen and you can tell you’re right. She regains her composure quickly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I find this monster,” she cringes at the word, but tries to hide it, “to be utterly stunning.” You see her left hand drop from Sans’ chest and go to her pocket. She slowly moves it out, pulling something small and shiny along with it. A knife. Sans glances down and sees it. He jumps out of the chair while simultaneously twisting his arm out of the grasp of her free hand. He lands not-so-gracefully with a quiet “oomph.” All eyes are on him and Jessica. No one stands to help him, though. You’re suddenly unfrozen. 

“Grillby!” you call as you run to his office. “Grillby, Sans is in trouble. A customer walked in and started flirting and making Sans uncomfortable and he told her to stop but she didn’t and now she has a knife and I’m pretty sure she’s going to hurt him and-” you blurt out at a speed that you’re pretty sure is faster than the speed of light, so Grillby cuts you off.

“Calm down, calm down. Can you explain a little slower?” Grillby stands up and walks with you down the hall.

“Sans is in trouble. A customer- Jessica- came in and started flirting with him. He was uncomfortable and told her to stop, but she didn’t. She continued to harass him, then she pulled out a knife.” Grillby makes a small noise similar to a gasp. You both move quicker down the hallway. When you get back to the bar area, you see Jessica with her knife pointed directly at Sans’ heart. Sans has his fists clenched and his left eye is glowing blue. All of the light from his eyes is gone, making it so they’re completely black. Uh oh, it would definitely not be good for business if a monster hurt a human, or vice versa. 

Without thinking, you run in between them. There isn’t that much of a space, so Jessica’s knife is only inches from your heart. 

“Jessica, stop.” you growl.

Rather than asking for a reason, she simply says, “No.” She moves her knife until the tip of it is touching your heart. “Monster-supporters like you should be dead. Monsters don’t belong up here on the surface. They don’t belong underground, either. They shouldn’t even exist, the filthy, violent creatures.” With every sentence she edges the knife closer and closer. “I think it’s the same with you. You don’t belong here or anywhere. The gang should have killed you sooner, rather than making a big show of it like they always do.” Wait… Gang? As in the one that pointed guns at your head a week ago? So… Damn. You should’ve known Jessica had put them up to that. She’s hated your guts ever since… Well, ever since she first laid eyes on you. Jessica continues speaking.

“It cost a lot of money and took a lot of favors to hire them too,” she whines. “Oh well,” she gives a big sigh. “I guess I’ll have to do it myself, however much I hate getting dirty.” She presses the knife closer and you’re frozen, unable to speak. The restaurant is packed. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why aren’t Sans or Grillby doing anything. You muster enough energy to turn your head. Grillby is whispering in Sans’ ear. Sans is nodding, eyes still devoid of any light. Finally, finally he steps forward.

“Get away, monster freak. I’ll deal with you later.” Sans ignores her words. His eye flares up again with blue flames. You pray to fate that he’ll help.

“kid, if you move that knife any farther or say anything else, you’re gonna have a b a d t i m e.” He snarled. As if daring him to do something, Jessica pressed the knife further. You tried to step back, only to find a wall behind you. The knife has torn through the fabric of your apron and t-shirt. Sans, Grillby, anyone, please do something! you silently plead, your eyes widened with fear yet refusing to let your tears show. Suddenly Sans is beside you and… hugging you? Was this a hug of goodbye? Was he going to just let you die?

“hold on tight, kiddo,” he whispers in your ear. You take no time to question what he said and instead clutch onto his arm and close your eyes. You’re filled with a sudden dizziness as the room wavers then turns to black. Did he knock you out? Kill you for Jessica? Why on Earth would he do that, anyways? Did he really hate you that much, despite not knowing you for very long? Was it because you didn’t step into the fight sooner? Your mind races at a million miles a second. Your thoughts are cut off as you see a blue shimmer through the pitch blackness. Then, as soon as the darkness and shimmering blue started, they stop, opening up to an extremely bright light that shines through your eyelids. You open your eyes again and see you’re still in Grillby’s restaurant, but on the side opposite Jessica. She looks extremely confused. You fight the urge to laugh, knowing that if you do, Jessica will see where you are. 

You try to take a silent step forward and are met with a painful, pounding headache. Stars shimmer in front of your eyes and you feel dizzy. Great, wonderful time to have a migraine headache. You start to fall backwards, but Sans catches you and sets you upright.

“i’m gonna help grillby deal with that jessica girl. you stay here where you’re safe. i don’t want you to get hurt.” Sans helps you into an empty seat. You blush.

“O-o-okay… u-um… um… th-thanks for, um, h-helping m-m-m-me!” You stammer. God damnit, why were you suddenly so anxious, yet you weren’t a minute ago when trying to stop Jessica, or when you were talking to Grillby? You wait for Sans to walk away, but instead he just… disappears and reappears in behind Jessica. He grabs her knife out of her hand and she shrieks, whirling around to face him. Oh god, what is he going to do with the knife? As much as you hate Jessica you still don’t want to see her die, even though she clearly wants you to die. You don’t want to see anyone die. Sans glances at the knife, then at Jessica, then at the knife. It seems everyone in the restaurant is holding their breath.

Sans looks at the knife for a few seconds before turning away from Jessica and casually walking over to the nearly overflowing trash can to the side of the bar. He opens it, looks at Jessica, then plunges the knife into the trash. You grin. That was brilliant. Jessica would never dig into a trash can. You try to stand up and walk towards them, but your headache stops you- again. You sit back down and watch. Jessica looks extremely angry, to say the least. She jabs a finger at Sans. 

“This isn’t the end of this, you know. I’m not going to rest until all the monsters are either dead, or back underground. Who else here agrees with me?” she pumps a fist in the air. She’s met with total silence. She lowers her arm. Her face is bright red with embarrassment. Grillby picks this moment to say something.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You are not allowed back in this restaurant, and I can assure you that if you come back, I will alert the police immediately. This restaurant does not allow violence.” Jessica huffs at his words and stays where she is with her arms folded. “Do you need me to show you the door? It’s directly to your right and straight ahead.” This comment gets a few snickers. Jessica’s face gets even redder from the added embarrassment. 

“Fine!” she walks towards the exit with her fists clenched to her side. When she opens the door to leave, the entire restaurant erupts with applause and cheers loud enough for Jessica to hear them. She grits her teeth and runs off. After a few moments the cheers die down and people return to eating. Grillby and Sans come over. 

“You can take a break from serving, if you want. I know that must’ve been pretty traumatizing,” Grillby tells you.

“O-okay. I think I will, th-thanks.” you give him a smile to show your gratitude and he leaves, taking your place behind the bar counter. Sans, however, sits down in the seat across from you. The light has returned to his eyes and so has the grin that’s almost always plastered to his face.

“so… uh, jessica mentioned she sent a gang after you? are you okay?” Sans says. You stare into space, momentarily, trying not to tear up at the thought of the gang. Two near-deaths in a little over a week. “i mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! ‘s fine.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Y-yeah, I was on my way home from work and had to g-g-go through a c-couple of a-alleyways be-because the main road back to campus was blocked. A, um, gang cornered me and they… they pointed a gun to each side of my head. Luckily, one of my friends saved me. Sh-she summoned up th-these s-spears and totally t-t-took them down. She didn’t kill them, of course! She-she mentioned you, or at least she mentioned that she was friends with these two skeletons. Do… Do you, um, kn-know Undyne?” You ask.

“yeah, she’s my friend. she was the head of the royal guard. she taught paps how to cook when we were in the underground, and tried to train him to be in the royal guard too.” Sans tells you. You must look confused because he adds, “paps is my bro.” Oh, that makes more sense. So that’s the brother Undyne mentioned. You and Sans are interrupted when Grillby brings over two burgers with fries and a bottle of ketchup. Wait, when did you order those? 

“On the house,” Grillby says.

“thanks, grillbs.”

“Oh, um, yeah, thank you!” Grillby nods curtly at your thanks and goes back to tending the bar counter. Sans talks a bit about his brother, and then talks about some of the other monsters he’s friends with. You zone out for a few moments, but catch some of the names he mentions.

“toriel always enjoys a good pun or joke. you’re kind of like her, in a sense. alphys was the royal scientist. she’s also undyne’s girlfriend. have you met her?” You blink a few times before answering.

“Y-yeah. W-we, um, U-Undyne and Alphys and I p-played video games together one time,” you tell him. “She- she seems to really like anime, t-too.”

“yeah. how did you meet undyne and alphys, anyway?” he looks slightly suspicious. 

“We go to the same c-college.”

“you go to Hamline University?”

“Yeah. This is my fourth year there. A-after I graduate, I’ll have m-my bachelor’s degree. I’m probably going to go b-back for two more years for my masters degree, though.” You notice you aren’t stuttering that much anymore. You smile a little. “Alphys and Undyne are really smart.”

“yeah,” he agrees. He continues talking about the other monsters in the underground. “asgore, he was the king of the underground. he’s a pretty nice guy. then there’s toriel. she always enjoys a good pun or joke. you’re kind of like her, in a sense.” As he talks, you start to zone out again. You mentally slap yourself. Don’t be so rude, _______. You focus on listening, only to find that you’re so focused on listening that you aren’t actually listening. Luckily, Sans seems about finished talking. You check your watch, trying not to let him notice because you don’t want him to think you’re bored. It’s 8:56. You hope Grillby won’t mind if you leave now. You thank Sans for saving you and get up to leave.

“wait,” he says. You stop. He pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket and writes something down. “it‘s my number. if you get into trouble with another gang or something, you can call or text me. i, uh, i don’t want you to get hurt, kiddo. or you can text me whenever, if you just want to talk,” he blushes, a light shade of blue tinting his face. 

You take the slip of paper from his hand. “U-u-u-um, th-thanks!” Crap,your stuttering is back. You can feel a blush creeping onto your face. You stand there awkwardly for a few more seconds. “Um… B-b-bye! Th-thank you again.” You rush out the door, turning to give a little wave. 

The road you normally take to walk back to campus is open again. As you walk, you add Sans to your contacts and put him on speed dial. Every few seconds you glance over your shoulder, paranoid that someone’s going to attack you. Relax, you tell yourself. Stay calm. You can call Sans, or call the police if something bad happens. Miraculously, you manage to make it to your dorm without anyone coming up to you or talking to you, except for Undyne and Alphys, but of course you don’t mind that. The three of you chatted in the hallway for a bit before going back to your dorm rooms. 

You lay in bed, trying to fall asleep and are greeted with thoughts that, let’s just say, you did not want to think about. Thoughts about how weak you are, not even being able to save yourself. Thoughts about how you probably made a bad impression on Sans he’s just pretending to like you so he doesn’t hurt your feelings. Then the usual thoughts come in, the ones the poke and prod behind your eyes, forcing tears to seep through. Thoughts that jump and twirl and leap in your throat, multiplying and multiplying until they’re caught and you can’t breathe. Thoughts that make you shake and sob and feel so damn worthless.

Stupid/ugly/fat/weak/selfish/bitch/weird/annoying/stupid. 

You try to shove the words back down, but they won’t. They leap up to your mouth and behind your eyes and come out in sobs and tears. No, you can’t wake up Temmie. Not again. You don’t want to worry her. You go to the living room and sit on the couch, crying.

Stupid/ugly/fat/weak/selfish/bitch/weird/annoying/stupid. 

You force yourself off the couch. You walk into the kitchen to look at the clock. Somehow it’s 11:42. You decide to make red velvet pancakes to surprise Tem when she wakes up. You take as long as possible to search for the ingredients, trying to distract yourself from the words the threaten to over take you. 

Flour, where’s the flour? Flour, flour, flour, what a strange word. How did they come up with it? You compel your mind to think these aimless thoughts. You grab the flour from the lower cabinet on the left. Next you wander around the small kitchen until you get to the refrigerator, looking for eggs. And cocoa powder. And where’s the red food dye? Milk, sugar, vanilla extract, baking soda, baking powder. You gather all of the ingredients and two large bowls, one for the wet ingredients and one for the dry ingredients. You’ve made red velvet pancakes a few times before for special occasions, so you’ve memorized the instructions. You decide to make a double recipe. You heat up the griddle then put the ingredients in their respective bowls. You pour the wet ingredients over the dry and whisk.

Stupid/ugly/fat/weak/selfish/bitch/weird/annoying/stupid. 

You whisk harder, but stop after the ingredients are incorporated so the pancakes aren’t tough. You spray cooking spray onto the griddle and put two big scoops of pancake batter onto the griddle. While the pancakes were cooking, you got the ingredients for the cream cheese glaze, putting all your focus into making that. The dangerous thoughts snuck up behind your forced ones and beat them, punching and shouting and dragging them to the ground. 

Stupid/ugly/fat/weak/selfish/bitch/weird/annoying/stupid. 

Stay focused! You finish the glaze quickly and return to the griddle to flip the pancakes. Just then you hear your phone buzz. Who would be texting at this hour. You grab your phone from the couch and look at it. It’s a text from Sans.

Sans, 12:39 am- hey.  
Sans, 12:40 am- are you awake still?

You take your phone to the kitchen and put the cooked pancakes onto a plate, spooning more batter on the griddle.

You, 12:42 am- Yeah, what’s up?  
Sans, 12:42 am- nothin’, how are ya?  
You, 12:42 am- I’m fine.  
Sans, 12:43 am- so this is kind of random and i know you haven’t known me or undyne or alphys for very long, but thanksgiving is coming up and i was wondering if maybe you wanted to come for thanksgiving dinner?

You’re shocked. Was he inviting you to a dinner? Maybe he’s trying to include you so you don’t feel left out or sad. Why else would someone want to invite you to dinner?

Sans, 12:44 am- you’d meet the other monsters, and it would be at tori’s house. i can give ya the address, ya know, if you wanna come.

Meeting other people? Hmmm… Maybe that’s not the best thing. It would just be another chance to mess up… You don’t want to decline, though. If Sans’ friends are as nice as he and Undyne and Alphys are, maybe it won’t be so bad.

Sans, 12:47 am: hello? you don’t have to come, if you don’t want to. ‘s fine.  
You, 12:47 am: Yeah, I’ll come. It sounds fun. What time should I be there?  
Sans, 12:48 am: how about 4 pm? the address is 1327, parkstreet lane.  
You, 12:38 am: Okay, thank you!  
Sans, 12:49 am: no problem. ‘m glad you could come. g’night.  
You, 12:49 am: Goodnight.

Sans’ texts scared off the words. You set your phone down and suddenly become aware of the scent of something burning. Shit, that’s right. The pancakes. You rush back to the griddle and check the pancakes, only to find them completely burnt. As in the inedible type of burnt. You sigh and use the spatula to carry both pancakes to the trash. You use the rest of the batter and end up with a giant stack of pancakes. You divide them onto 4 plates, add a generous amount of the cream cheese glaze, and put them in the fridge for the morning. You clean up after your mess and go back to the couch. You decide to watch tv quietly for the next few hours, because you aren’t very tired. Soon after, though, you doze off...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE SANS FOR EVERYONE!!!!  
> Holy crap is this a long chapter  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	6. Thanksgiving (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving dinner and more anxious thoughts! It looks like maybe Toriel thinks of Sans as more than a friend. The reader meets Sans', Alphys' , and Undyne's friends in this chapter! Also, a famous monster celebrity makes an appearance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo.... Maybe we aren't sticking to the every other day chapter update schedule. Most of you have probably noticed that we've changed the warning and added a tag... *Evil laughter.* We decided to split this chapter in two parts because A.) We kind of have writers block... Hehe sorry... and B.) It would have been a really long chapter. We'll try to update the fanfiction as often as we can! My tumblr account is @arigirl12345, so you can send in suggestions for the fanfiction there, too. You don't have to follow me to send messages/asks btw.  
> -Ari-

You wake up merely an hour later to the feeling of falling. You shake it off. At least it wasn’t another nightmare. You sit up and look at the clock. 2:38 am. Sighing, you flop back down on the couch and flip through the channels until you get to the late night shows channel, which today is apparently an opera channel. Hmm… You decide to stay on the channel and watch opera. You drift in and out of sleep; one moment you’re awake, the next you’re asleep. Finally you close your eyes and wander back to sleep for the rest of the night.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
One week and three days later, school’s out for thanksgiving break. Temmie’s going to her apartment a few miles away where she’ll be celebrating thanksgiving with her 4 friends, all named Temmie except for one, whose name is Bob. The day thanksgiving break starts Temmie leaves for her apartment leaving you with the dorm to yourself. Students are allowed to stay in their dorms on all breaks except for summer. You guess you’ll probably be staying here again this year since you don’t have any family to return to. The only day you won’t be here is on Thanksgiving, which reminds you… You should cook something to bring! You don’t want to come empty handed. But what will you bring?  
...After some thought you come up with three recipes. You decide to make dinner rolls with herbs, split pea soup, and pumpkin cupcakes with a pumpkin cheesecake filling. A side, an entrée, and a dessert. You get to work on everything.  
___________________________________________________________________________  
You finished cooking around 9:13 pm, and you are too anxious about tomorrow to sleep. You sit on the couch and find yourself staring at the wall. You want to watch tv, but you can’t seem to find the energy to move your hand to the remote. Your mind swims with questions and worries and negative. You worry that you won’t make a good first impression. Your anxiety and stuttering will make sure of it. They’ll probably think you’re just an antisocial freak. What if no one even talks to you? What if you’re excluded? It wouldn’t be the first time. What if they are completely disgusted with your cooking? What if Sans, Undyne and Alphys are just faking it and actually hate you and are planning to humiliate you? What if- your eyes wander to the clock. 11:13. Two hours. You’ve been staring at the wall for two hours? Fuck, man. You start to feel a little bit lonely, but then you realize you Alphys gave you her number the other day. Maybe she doesn’t like you, but why not text her? At least she’s nice, and you both love anime. Maybe you could talk about that, or talk about thanksgiving or something. You turn on your phone, and open imessage. You find Alphys in your contacts and open your conversation. 

You, 12:19 am: Alphys are you awake? 

Not even thirty seconds after, she replied.  
Alphys, 12:19 am: Ye just watching anime \\(°¬°)/  
You, 12:20 am: I sort of guessed.  
Alphys, 12:20 am: Cant sleep?  
You, 12:21 am: Yeah. So are you coming to the Thanksgiving dinner?  
Alphys, 12:21 am: Yeah, how’d you know about that?  
You, 12:21 am: Sans invited me. He said I’d meet his friends and stuff so I figured maybe you and Undyne would come since he said you two were his friends.  
Alphys, 12:22 am: O, ye we’re coming. So ur friends with Snas?  
Alphys, 12:22 am: San*  
Alphys, 12:22 am: Sand*  
Alphys, 12:22 am: Ugh, SANS*  
You, 12:23 am: LOL, it’s okay Alphys, happens to everyone. Dumb autocorrect.  
Alphys, 12:23 am: Hehe ye. 0//u//0

You talk to Alphys for most of the rest of the night. After she decides to go to bed, you remain awake, too anxious to sleep.  
___________________________________________________________________________  
As you leave to go to the Thanksgiving party, your mind races with negative thoughts. You see Parkstreet Lane, and turn onto it. You look at the house numbers and you think you found the right one, but you check just to make sure.  
“1327, Parkstreet Lane,” Yep. Found the right house. You pull in and pick up your food. This is it, you think. You knock on the door. No turning back now. 

“Oh! I’ll be right there, dear!” said a voice that was very nice to hear, and made you visibly relax. How a voice could do this, you had no clue. The door opened to reveal a large goat woman, and a small human child close by her side. 

“Hello, my child. You must be ________, correct?” you nod your head. “My name is Toriel. This,” she pats the child on their head, much to the child’s discomfort, “is Friks. We’ve been expecting you! Come! Follow me! You can leave your food on the table in the backyard.” You follow the goat-woman inside, pass through the dining room and what you assume is the living room judging by the couch and the chairs, and she leads you through another door that leads to her backyard. You set your food on the table out there and look around. There was a lot of stuff going on out there. Sans was standing next to a taller skeleton who was arm-wrestling Undyne. Next to them was a taller goat-man. He must be Toriel’s husband. You glance down at her hands (hooves?). Nope. No ring. Is he her boyfriend? Brother, maybe? You shake your head to clear away the thoughts. Whatever their relationship is, it isn’t your problem. You thank her for showing you around and move to talk to Alphys.

“Oh! My child, I almost forgot to introduce everyone!” She points to the taller skeleton who, by now, has finished arm wrestling Undyne. You assume Undyne won, since she has a victorious smile on her face. “Asgore,” she says with a hint of disgust in her voice and points to the goat-man. “And you already have met Sans, Undyne, and Alphys. Have you not?” 

“I have, ma’am.” You say. Toriel laughs. 

“No need to call me ma’am , my child. You can call me by my name, or as others like to say, Tori, if you wish.”

“Uh, okay, Toriel.” You don’t stutter when you speak to her. Perhaps because she doesn’t make you feel nervous? Toriel wanders off to talk with a pair of monsters. One looks like an alligator, has blonde hair tied into a ponytail, and is wearing a pink shirt with blue and yellow triangles on the sleeves. The other monster looks like a cat, but she’s purple. She’s wearing blue overalls with yellow brass buttons and yellow fringe-like material on the short sleeves. You’ve seen them both at Grillby’s occasionally. They work as waitresses. What were their names again…? Oh, right. Bratty and Catty. They’re valley girls of sorts, but they’re both very nice. Sometimes you accidentally listen in on their conversations, which are usually about how they wish glamburgers were part of the menu. 

You see Undyne and Alphys, now chatting with other monsters, and take a step forward. Then the social anxiety steps in. You don’t want to interrupt her. You look around. Toriel’s still engulfed in her conversation with Bratty and Catty and you don’t want to disturb her either. Sans is talking to the tall skeleton, whom you assume is Papyrus, the other skeleton Undyne mentioned. Everyone seems to be busy, so you decide to just stand next to the food table awkwardly. Then Sans notices you and heads over to say hi. 

“hey, ‘sup.”

“n-n-n-nothing! U-um…” Silence. Neither of you speak, glancing around semi-uncomfortably. Why did you always feel so much more anxious around him than around anyone You feel your face heat up. Well this is getting awkward rather quickly. “S-so uh, how- how a-a-are y-you?”

“‘m good. real question is, how are you? you don't look so good there. ya sick or something?”

“N-n-n-no, I-I-I am j-just a-a bit ner-nervous. I’m k-kind of, um, a-awkward around n-new p-p-people.”

“hmm. have you met my bro yet? he loves humans, tries to make friends with everyone he sees.”

“Th-th-that s-sounds nice.”

“yeah. come on! ‘m sure he’ll love ya.”

“O-o-ok.” You follow him towards Papyrus, and the tall skeleton gasps.

“SANS!!! IS THAT A HUMAN!?!” Papyrus turns to you with a big smile. You cringe slightly at the loud voice, but give a nervous smile.

“sure is, bro. this is the human i told you about before. ya know, the one that works at grillby’s new place? her name’s _________.” He talked about you? You can’t decide if this is good or bad. 

“___________?!? WOWIE!!! MY LAZYBONES BROTHER TOLD ME ABOUT YOU!!!! I MUST INTRODUCE MYSELF!! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!!!” 

“i already said that bro-” 

“YOU MUST COME OVER FOR SOME FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI AND PUZZLES!!!!”

“Th-that sounds n-nice. I sh-should come o-over sometime. I-i-if i-i-it's okay w-w-with y-you o-of c-course!”

“I THINK SANS AND I WOULD LOVE YOU OVER, ________! RIGHT, SANS?” There is a pause, but Sans eventually responds. 

“yea bro. that’d be cool.” the conversation goes on, about spaghetti, how amazing Papyrus is, and how he is indeed, the greatest. It makes you think how much of a child he is, in a good way. Five minutes of talking to him and you can already tell he’s a precious cinnamon roll.  
___________________________________________________________________________

Papyrus sighs.

“OH, HOW I WISH METTATON WAS HERE…” The lights in Sans’ eyes dim just slightly, almost unnoticeably. He doesn’t seem too fond of Mettaton. You’ve heard of him, how he’s starred in movies and come out with singles that made top charts within minutes, but you’ve never actually heard any of his songs or seen his movies.

“mettaton will not be here over my old bo-”

“HELLO DARLINGS!~ THE STAR HAS ARRIVED!~” You see a humanoid looking robot  
strut out into the yard. You guess it’s Mettaton. What fantastic timing; with Papyrus just talking about how he wanted him here.

“Sorry I’m so fashionably late but I had massive interviews to go to.” He catches sight of Papyrus and gasps. “PAPY DARLING!~”

“METTATON!!!” Papyrus shouts enthusiastically. Sans moves to stand in between the two love birds, but grimaces and stands back instead when he sees how happy Papyrus is. 

“hey, bro, wanna go get something to eat from the appetisers table?” Sans tries to lead Papyrus away from Mettaton. Ooooh. Sans is being a protective big brother. How cute- No. Don’t think that. That is weird. You only met like 4 weeks ago! Besides, you don’t know if you can trust him yet. He seems nice, but then again, so did… No. Don’t think about that name, ever. Especially not now. You don’t want to be deceived again, and you don’t want to be weakened by love. 

Before you started college, you read a lot. One of your favourite series was the Mortal Instruments series. You had memorised many, many lines from the books, having read them front to back multiple times. One of your favourite quotes from the series was said by Jace and you found that you could understand exactly where he was coming from. “To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed”. If you fell in love, you would just be destroyed. Over and over again. Your world has already fallen apart before from… From Him. You had enough trouble taping and glueing it back together, but it was even more difficult pretending you were okay everyday, pretending that your world wasn’t so fragile, that your heart didn’t drop into a void, that you had all the pieces even though you were still missing some. No, you can’t fall in love. You can’t let it happen again.

Mettaton’s voice and robotic- yet surprisingly realistic- hand waving in your face snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“The fabulous Mettaton to ________, it's time to eat. Are you there, Darling?”

“O-oh, uh, y-y-yeah, sorry. I-I got a little distracted f-for a-a moment.” You smile up at the robot nervously. You turn around to head to the table for dinner. You’re thankful you didn’t have a panic attack, or at least not a major one. At least no one noticed. The lights in Sans’ eyes are still dim, but they’re closer to their usual brightness and he has his usual shit-eating grin pasted on his face. He gently takes your elbow to lead you there. You jump slightly at his touch and shiver, briefly awash in bad memories, but you quickly recover and try to play it off. You glance at him sideways to see him looking slightly concerned, but he pretends not to notice the slight panic that claimed you when he touched you. You follow him and take a seat next to him. The food is passed around and you end up with a small portion of everyone’s food that they brought on your plate.

Everyone takes seconds of food, even yours. You’re glad they seem to like the entrées you brought. Everybody is chatting with everyone else. You’re worried you’ll say something wrong or be too boring or stutter too much. There’s so much that you could mess up so you choose to remain silent, laughing when everyone else does and only speaking to answer someone’s questions.

“this meal is pun-derful,” Sans says. Everyone groans except for Toriel, who laughs so hard she has tears in her eyes. The pun was funny, but it wasn’t THAT funny… Maybe Toriel likes Sans? They would be cute together, you think, trying to ignore the small tug of jealousy and disappointment at the thought of them being together.

“STOP MAKING PUNS, SANS!!!” Papyrus says in his usual loud tone. He sounds as annoyed as almost everyone else looks.

“okay, pa-pie-rus,” Sans says while nudging his head towards the delicious-smelling pie in the centre of the table. “my mis-steak, paps” This time he nods towards the steak at the far right end of the table. Papyrus just groans and facepalms. There is a sudden silence at the table, and you think of the perfect thing to say.

“Sans, you should know that steak puns are a rare medium well-done.” Sans looks at you in shock then bursts out into laughter. Toriel giggles a bit but then looks unamused. The chattering around the table resumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are looking for who the pun master was, YOU’RE LOOKING RIGHT AT HER!  
> Ugh sorry we both got massive writer's block  
> But we are lazy still so YAY HAVE A TWO PARTER  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. You may have noticed we added a tag~  
> MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHA


	7. Thanksgiving (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving continues and it looks like you recieve some texts from your ex...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's some angst in this chapter (courtesy of Blue) and a few feelings are confessed. It isn't really much of a slow burn anymore... This chapter is a bit shorter because we wanted to get it out a bit quicker than we've been publishing the previous chapters. We have a few ideas for some future chapters, but as always, comments, suggestions, and criticism are appreciated greatly! You can comment here on AO3, or send in a message or ask on tumblr (my tumblr account is arigirl12345, Blue doesn't have an account; I think you can send in an ask even if you don't have an account though, because Blue tried and it worked).  
> -Ari-

“Darlings! I think it’s time for a fabulous MTT movie marathon!~” Mettaton exclaims after dinner is over. Sans and Undyne goan.

“WHAT A WONDERFUL IDEA, METTATON!” Papyrus exclaims. He walks over to a shelf, and picks out three DvDs.

“THIS IS MY FAVORITE ONE!” Papyrus says as he points to the DvD on the top of the stack. It was titled, “Oh! My Love!” From the cover you can tell it’s a musical based off of Cinderella and Rapunzel. You glance at the back cover when Papyrus held it up. The movie is… Four hours long… And the next two are around the same length... This is going to be a very long marathon. Sans speaks up.

“paps, don’t you think that is a bit too many mettaton movies for one night?”

“THERE IS NEVER TOO MUCH METTATON MOVIES!”

“paps, they’re all four hours lo-”

“Darling, if you don’t like them, you can leave.” Mettaton jumps in and puts his arm around Papyrus’ neck. Sans merely replies with a grunt and sits down on the couch. Toriel doesn’t hesitate to sit next to him. Sans looks very uncomfortable, presumably from how close Toriel is sitting next to him. You don’t blame him; you would be uncomfortable too, if you were sitting that close to someone.

“Is something wrong, Sans?” Toriel asks. 

“no, just a little cramped. can you move over a li’l bit?” Toriel looks hurt for a second, then nods and moves to the right, just a centimetre. “erm, a little more, please? i like my personal space.” Toriel huffs and moves another centimetre away from him. Sans is starting to get annoyed. “do we really have to do this?” Toriel sighs. 

“O-ok..” Huh. Toriel doesn’t seem like the stuttering type. She moves away from him so there’s a couple decimetres away. 

“thanks, tori.” 

Toriel sighs, than replies. “No problem, Sans.”

You take a seat on the other side of Toriel.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Around the credits of the first movie, most of the monsters that were previously at the thanksgiving party have left. Only Sans, Toriel, Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, Asgore, and you remain. Toriel asks to pause the marathon to make snacks.

“I would like to make some snacks, if anyone is interested?” A couple monsters suggest popcorn, candy, and soda. Toriel quickly walks to the kitchen to gather the snacks. It takes a bit, but when she arrives she finds that Sans has moved closer to you. She looks a bit hurt, then looks at you and her eyes flash with anger, distrust, and disgust, then with disbelief. The emotions in her eyes are fleeting and soon she gives you a kind expression. She passes out snacks and returns to her seat and. The marathon continues.

The second movie ends at around 1:37 am. Papyrus has dozed off and is snoring softly. Asgore has left, probably to his room since it appears he lives here. Toriel’s gone too, probably to her room also. Undyne and alphys are asleep on loveseat couch next to the big couch you and Sans are sitting on. Sans’ eyes close, then snap open. He seems to be trying to stay awake, but it’s a battle that you can tell he’s not going to win. You want to leave because it would be rude to stay here without permission, but it’s awfully late, or rather early. You’ve never been one for driving at night, and you’d have to walk a bit to get from where you usually park your car to the dorm. And you know very well that it’s never safe to walk alone at night. You shudder at the thought. You decide it would be safer to just stay here. Soon you find yourself drifting off into sleep too...  
______________________________________________________________________________

You wake to Sans asleep on your shoulder, Papyrus and Undyne cooking breakfast, and Toriel with a frenzied expression preventing a fire. Alphys is watching something with headphones on her laptop intently, assumably anime, Asgore is sipping tea at the counter and Mettaton is posing dramatically and reading a poem Frisk made for him. Sans moves his head, still asleep. You had forgotten that he had fallen asleep on your shoulder. Your face heats up but you force the blush back down. You want to move and get up, but you don’t want to disturb his sleep. You’re stuck. You catch a glimpse of the clock on the oven in the kitchen. It’s 11:28 am. Damn, now long can the skeleton sleep? 

You slowly inch away from him while simultaneously grabbing a few pillows and stacking them in your place. You stand up, stretch, and yawn. Then the panic sets in. You had stayed the whole night. Surely they wouldn’t mind, would they? Everyone seemed very welcoming. But what would they think of you now? You probably had messy bed-head and your clothes were likely wrinkled and probably didn’t smell very good since you hadn’t brought a pair of pyjamas to change into, having not intended to stay past 10. You try not to think anymore negative thoughts. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, envisioning a metal box that’s locked. You imagine yourself pulling a key out of thin air and unlocking the box. It’s empty. You cram all of the negative thoughts into the box and before they can escape, you slam the lid shut and lock it up before tossing the key over your shoulder.

“OH! THE OLDER HUMAN IS AWAKE! GOOD MORNING ________!” Papyrus says from the kitchen. You jolt out of scene you had imagined. It worked, at least. You aren’t thinking negatively.

“Mornin’ Punk!” Undyne yells. Frisk notices you are awake and signs a “Wait there!” and runs off. After a minute or two you hear footsteps and a annoyed voice. 

“GET THE HEL- HECK OFF ME YOU IDIOT!” Frisk finally comes into the room with a pot that has a flower with a face on it. “What’cha looking at?!” the flower says. Confusion passes over your face. A… Talking flower? Well, almost anything is possible, you think.

“O-oh u-um sorry. I-I didn't mean to s-stare.” Frisk hits the flower on the petal and signs something too fast for you to read. 

“Ugh, fine kid…. Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! What is your name?” Flowey says, words dripping with sarcasm. 

“_-_-______,” Flowey looks like he is going to say something, but gets interrupted by Undyne. 

“Breakfast is ready nerds! Come and get it!”  
You grab two pancakes and pour some orange juice. Sans grabs some pancakes, pours some milk for himself and Papyrus, and heads to the dining table with everyone else. 

“BROTHER, I DON'T THINK YOU WANT TO DRINK THAT MILK.”

“you are always telling me to drink milk, so i will.”

“SANS….” Papyrus is too late. Sans takes a drink of the milk and everyone looks at him strangely. 

“....what's wrong, guys?” Sans asks. Undyne takes out the carton Sans poured his milk from. Goat milk. Sans realizes what he just drank and spits it out. Toriel is blushing and looks…. Aroused? What the hell Toriel?! 

“Could we put breakfast on hold? I have something to say and I want everyone to hear. Is that alright, my children?” Toriel asks. Undyne nods, along with everyone else. Toriel sighs. “Sans…”  
Sans raises an eyebone.

“yea tori? Toriel looks really nervous. What is going on? 

“I….I…” Sans stands up and walks over to her.

“c’mon, whatever it is i won't judge you.”

“I……..I-I… I love you Sans. I have for a long time.” Sans looks shocked.

“t-tori…” Toriel’s eyes fill with hope. 

“Yes, Sans?”

“tori... i-i’m sorry but i don't feel the same way.” Toriel looks as if her heart actually breaks, and you can even hear the shatter if you listen close enough. Toriel’s eyes tear up. 

“S-s-sans….” Her voice wavers.

“tori, i’m sorry, but i don't feel the same way. i just never saw us that way.”

“C-can’t you t-try?” Toriel has tears rolling down her face like raindrops on a window when it’s the middle of a storm. 

“no. i’m sorry, but i can never see that happening.” Toriel runs out of the room crying, and most likely to her room. Sans sighs and sits down, resting his head in his hand. 

“i.. i never knew she felt this way…” Sans mutters under his breath. “i admit i liked her once, before she was my best friend. but only a small bit. i… i would have never even thought…” Papyrus takes a step forward to Sans, but you interfere. 

“Papyrus, I think Sans needs a bit of alone time. Okay?” You whisper to Papyrus. 

“.....Okay.” Papyrus’ voice is quieter and more concerned than usual. Papyrus walks out of the room with a dead-silent Flowey being held by Frisk, Asgore goes to comfort Toriel, and Alphys is having a panic attack so Undyne is taking her outside, leaving you and Sans alone. 

“I-I-I’ll u-u-m l-leave y-y-you t-to y-your th-thoughts th-then?” You start to get up to leave but a hand on your arm stops you.

“....no. i need someone to sort this out with.” You couldn't help the giant blush that grew on your face. 

“O-o-o-okay.”  
______________________________________________________________________________

You and Sans talk for a while about how he is feeling with this whole situation, and after a while Toriel comes out of her room and you and Asgore make her and Sans talk it out. By noon, the two are back making puns and joking like there is no tomorrow. Before you leave, you obtain everyone's number. When you get back to your dorm, you see you got a text while you were out.

AssFuck, 1:28 PM: heyyy grl. want u back :’(

You freeze in horror. Didn’t you block him all of those years ago? How did he…?

You, 1:29 pm: I thought I blocked you and told you to never talk to me again.  
AssFuck, 1:29 pm: awww cmon grl i’ve changed  
AssFuck, 1:30 pm: i won’t hit you again. i swear.  
You, 1:31 pm: No. Please, leave me alone.  
AssFuck, 1:31 pm: you bet your ass i won’t. bitch.  
You, 1:31 pm: You know I can just block you again, don’t you?  
AssFuck, 1:32 pm: fuck you!! >:(  
You, 1:32 pm: I’m pretty sure we established that that will never happen again.  
AssFuck, 1:32 pm: i will kll you!!!  
You, 1:32 pm: You don’t even know where I live anymore.  
AssFuck, 132 pm: i will find you. and you better watch you’re back cuz if you thought i was bad b4, wait til you see me now. you don’t deserve to tell me know. after all i’ve done for you.  
You, 1:33 pm: Your*, no*, and you better back off before I take matters to the police.

You block him and turn your phone on silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WRITE ALL THE ANGST SO BUCKLE IN TIGHT WE ARE GOING FOR A ANGSTY RIDE I'M SO EVIL YOU ALL WILL HATE MEEEE  
> Oh and I made Sans drink goat milk so I am very cruel mwuaahhahahaha  
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism!  
> ~Blue~


	8. It's A Date! p.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton texts you about a double date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm really sorry about not posting since before summer last year, and there really aren't many excuses, I'm just lazy and pathetic. :P The plan was for this to be a super long (like 10,000 word) chapter, but I don't see something like that being posted in the near future and I think it might get a bit boring to read just one continuous page of text. So instead, it'll be split up into two (maybe three) parts that are shorter (2,000-4,000 words). Again, I am so so so sorry about taking like 9 months to do anything.  
> ~Ari

Two days later you receive a text from Mettaton.

Mettaton, 12:00 pm: Darling, you absolutely must go on a double date with me and papy tonight!!

Um, what did he just say? This was a little out of the blue, considering this was the first time he texted you. Besides, you didn’t like, like anyone, and no one likes you anyway. 

You, 12:02 pm: I don’t think I can go, I’m sorry.

Mettaton, 12:02 pm: Oh, but why not, gorgeous?

You, 12:02 pm: I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment so it would be a little awkward to come along on a date with you and Papyrus, sorry.

Mettaton, 12:02 pm, What? You mean you and Sans aren’t dating?

You, 12:02 pm: No! We’re just friends. Wait, so would it be like a friends date?

Mettaton, 12:02 pm: No no no, darling! A date, of course!

You, 12:03 pm: With you and Paps, and me and Sans?

Mettaton, 12:03 pm: That’s right, darling!

You, 12:03 pm: I don’t know… 

Mettaton, 12:03 pm: Come on, you must come! It will be at the most exquisite restaurant in the city. My treat, of course! It’s a gift to Papy, but I figured that it would be even more stunning if it was a double date. The press will eat that up!

Mettaton, 12:06 pm: Not that I wouldn’t have invited you anyways, of course!

You, 12:07 pm: Okay, but I’m just going as Sans’s friend, is that okay?

Mettaton, 12:07 pm: Fine, fine, but if it changes your mind at all about going as friends, Sans really does like you, you know.

You, 12:08 pm: Er, I’m pretty sure we just consider each other as friends.

Mettaton, 12:08 pm: Oh, darling, it was pretty obvious at the party that he liked you, and I’m sure nothing has changed between then and now! And you like him as more than friends, don’t you?

You pause. It’s all still extremely confusing to you. You tell yourself that you don’t like him, that you can’t like him. You can let… that happen again. No, you can’t like him. But... what if you do? Besides, even if you do like him, why should you tell Mettaton? You’ve barely known him for three days, but he does seem like the type of monster you can trust.

You, 12:09 pm: Yeah, I guess. I don’t really know. It’s kinda confusing.

Mettaton, 12:09 pm: ;) Ha! I knew it, darling! So you’ll come, then? Sans already agreed to pick you up at 7:30 if you agreed to go~! See you at 8, darling!

You, 12:09 pm: Um, okay. Bye!

Um, WHAT?? Sans is going to pick you up? Oh no, you think. Oh god, no. As if going on a double “date” with Sans wasn’t going to be awkward enough, now you had to ride in a car with him to, as Mettaton put it, “The most exquisite restaurant in the city”?! That is going to be extremely awkward. What are you even going to say to him? You’ve never been good with talking, and in situations like these, you could barely utter a word without a five-minute-long stutter session first. The more you thought about it, the more nervous you were. Stupid social anxiety. 

This was going to be an extremely long night, especially since you were fairly certain that, despite what Mettaton said, Sans really only thought of you as a friend. You’re fine with that, of course, because you only like Sans as a friend. Maybe. Right? Relationships are always so confusing to you, and you’ve only been in one, which really didn’t make you enjoy dating at all. You sigh loudly. Not all boys can be like He was, right? He, that unmentionable name, the one that bit your tongue to keep you from speaking it out loud, the one that was stored away in the metal drawer in the farthest corner of your mind, locked up tight with the key thrown away, the name that drew forth so much terror in you. But you have to at least give dating a second chance. Sans isn’t like that. Hopefully.  
______________________________________________________________________________

It’s two hours before 7:30 and you have no idea what to wear. Mettaton said your double date would be at an “exquisite” restaurant, but perhaps he was just exaggerating? You decide to text him and ask if you should wear a fancy dress, or if it’s more of a casual place.

You, 5:30 pm: Hey, Mettaton, should I wear a fancy dress to the restaurant or dress more casual?

You wait, anxious. Your foot starts tapping subconsciously as your mind races. You have a lot of formal dresses and shoes, despite rarely wearing anything fancier than a t-shirt and jeans or leggings, but if this is a formal restaurant, the question which dress and which pair of shoes? A black dress would be simple and sophisticated, but dark blue best suits your complexion. And should it be a long ball-gown-style dress, or a shorter cocktail-type dress? And what shoes? Sparkly heels? Plain white wedges? Ballet flats or black stilettos or just really fancy sandals? But what if it’s not a formal event and you’re overthinking everything, like you always do? Why are dates so hard? 

The metallic-sounding ringtone you set for Mettaton goes off and startles you. You stumble backwards and trip over the carpet, landing hard on your bum with an “oof!” That’s going to hurt in the morning, you think to yourself. You quickly stand up and check your texts.

Mettaton, 5:38 pm: Why, yes darling! It’s a black tie event. Do you have a formal dress to wear, gorgeous? We can go shopping if we must!

You, 5:38 pm: No, that’s okay. I have a nice dress to wear. Thank you, though! Should it be full length?

Mettaton, 5:39 pm: Yes! That would be perfect!

You, 5:39 pm: Okay, thanks Mettaton!

Mettaton, 5:41 pm: Of course, darling!

A full length formal dress? This really must be some restaurant. You go to your closet to pick out a dress. You have an assortment of dresses, all folded and put in a box on the floor of the closet, though you never really wear them anymore. Why would you? The only reason you have so many is from back when you were dating him. You still have vivid memories of him, what he made you do, the… “games” he forced you to play, though unwilling. Without realizing it, you reach out and start running your hands along the soft fabrics. Your mind has blocked the memories, but you know that once you start thinking about them, about him, really just about your past in general, everything will come back in a horrible, terrifying explosion. Nope. Not today. You're too stressed for this shit. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and just… Stop thinking. Stop thinking about everything except what to wear, that is.

You take out all the dresses so you can look at them quickly. You have an assortment of black and dark blue dresses; he thought you looked best in those colors. A sudden burst of anger surges through you, coursing through your veins, bleeding from your heart mixed with your blood cells, working its way through your bones and around your brain. He was a horrible person, horrible. You didn't choose these dresses. He did. And there is absolutely no way you are ever going to wear these dresses again. Nope nope nopeity nope nope. You carelessly shove all the dresses back in the box, outraged. You then slam the box back in the closet and slide the closet door firmly shut. You sit for a few seconds, angrily clenching your teeth together trying to calm down. But… You don't have any other dresses to wear. Screw it you're going shopping.

Thrift shopping, of course. You don't have the money for a 400 dollar formal dress. You decide to go to reChic Boutique, a thrift store a few miles away from campus. It's in a richer part of town, and a lot of the wealthy people that live in that area donate their (often fancy) clothing. It says chic in the name, but really it's for all genders. You grab your car keys and throw on a coat and scarf to protect you from the cold of the now-approaching winter and half run, half jog down the stairs to ground level and traipse the 30 feet across the parking lot to wear your car is parked.

It's a quiet ride. You don't listen to music or a radio talk show. There's no one else in the car so there's no conversation to break up the silence. The only sound you hear is the noise of your car and other cars on the road (and a motorcycle). When you get to reChic, you walk in and pause to gather your surroundings. You haven't come to this store since p.h. (pre “him”). 

They don't use fluorescent lights like almost every other store does. In the middle of the store there's a medium-sized round glass coffee table. On one side of the coffee table there's a gray modern sofa with lots of big, colorful pillows and on the other side there's two big, cushioned gray chairs in the same modern style with even more big and fluffy pillows following the same vibrant color scheme as the sofa pillows. Along the wall to the right of the table and chairs when you walk in you see a coffee machine with creamer and sugar in little baskets next to it. The actually clothes section of the thrift store is divided into two sections. Women's clothing is on the right and men's clothing is on the left. The clothing is organized by color and size. The dresses are in the back. Before walking to the dress section, you head towards the coffee machine because damn, you are tired. And it's going to be hard to get through a [platonic] date without at least a little bit of caffeine in your system.

After filling a styrofoam cup with coffee and downing it, you glance at your phone to see that it’s already 6:17 pm. Shit. You hurry to look through the dresses. And fucking wow. There's so many. All of them are so beautiful. This store is totally underrated. This is going to take forever. Except you don't have forever. You have less than an hour. Well, fuck. You decide you want to we are a dark blue dress because even though it reminds you of him ((who, from now on, we will try to remember to refer to as either “asshole” or assfuck”)), it's still your favorite color. There's no way you can pick one in the amount of time you have. So you channel your inner 8 year old, close your eyes, and do eeny meeny miny mo. You open your eyes to see an elegant dress that will likely reach to your ankles. Eh, so maybe it's supposed to be floor length. What's a couple inches? You quickly study the dress. The dress has a lacy halter-top style bodice with a silver sparkly line of rhinestones running down the center front and around the waist, forming a belt of sorts, not for holding the dress up but merely for aesthetics. The skirt is simple and minimalistic. There's no lace and there’re no rhinestones, yet it's as stunning as the top. It has a few layers of fabric but is still lightweight, like the kind of dress you could twirl in and have the skirt fly up slightly. Glancing at the price tag, you're surprised to see how cheap it is. Even at a thrift store, you'd expect it to still cost a bit more than what they're selling it for here. The dress is only $11.50, plus tax. You have a pair high heels back in your dorm that might go well with the dress. They're 2 inch, open toed silver heels with a swirly design, and they're covered in little rhinestones. You change back into your normal clothes and take the dress to the checkout counter to pay for it. You then drive home to change into the dress and compete against time itself to finish getting ready before 7.

It's 6:57. You stand in front of your full length mirror. The dress looks gorgeous, and the color totally matches your complexion. Turning to the side, you suck your stomach in. Perfect. Glancing again at the clock, you watch as the numbers change from 6.59 to 7:00. You grab your purse and put your phone inside, along with the lipstick you used, a dark violet matte shade. You run down the stairs for the second time in the past hour and wait in the dorm lobby. As if on cue, you see a 1967 Chevy Impala drive into the parking lot and park. Soon a familiar short skeleton steps out and lazily walks to the door wearing… His normal blue jacket, sweatpants, and his signature pink slippers. Was mettaton exaggerating? Was this not formal? Shit. Why the fuck did you even agree to go on this double date anyway? Are you an idiot? Why why whY WHY WHY OH SHIT WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?? 

…

While your mind is in a panicked frenzy, sans looks up through the glass doors, starts to push them open, and freezes. You feel so insecure, it takes all of your remaining brain power to keep your face in a smile. Sadly, though, pretty much all of your brain power is currently being used to focus on your insecurities and try to give you a panic attack. This date is already not working out, whoop de fucking do, what a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO WADDUP GUESS WHOS BACK
> 
> US THAT’S WHO :D xD
> 
> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and we are open to suggestions and criticism.  
> ~Blue  
> So yeah there it is. I'm pretty sure part two is almost finished and we'll be on to part three soon, but again I make no promises. Comment, like, share, whatever if you want to idk ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. If you have any questions or suggestions for future chapters, don't be afraid to comment or send in an ask to my tumblr (arigirl12345). Thank you to everyone who stayed with us and who keeps reading this story, even though it takes an eternity between chapter updates lol. Sorry again,  
> ~Ari
> 
> Edit: Whoops! I had references for the dress and shoes, but I forgot to link them. If anyone's wondering, the dress I described was from the promgirl.com website (https://www.promgirl.com/_img/PGPRODUCTS/1478500/180/navy-blue-dress-DQ-9283-a.jpg) and the shoe description was in reference to shoes I found on allfashionnews.net (http://www.allfashionnews.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/silver-high-heels-for-prom.jpg)  
> So there ya go! Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read our fanfiction, and to everyone who didn't totally give up on it after, ya know, 9 months and then 4+ months of no uploads. Have a wonderful day/week/life!  
> ~Ari


	9. Panic! at the Restaurant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has a panic/anxiety attack at the restaurant. fun times, amiright ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay full disclosure i have no clue what im doing anymore. i haven't written much more of this fic since maybe a month after the last update. however ! i felt kinda bad about having such a long hiatus and leaving this off in the middle of a multipart chapter, and i had managed to write part two and some of part three ! so here's this. i'm not sure when the next update will be. i'm very sorry about the long length of time between chapters. thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic ! i really appreciate all of you.

“um, hey. was i s’posed to dress up?”

“U-u-u-um… I-I-I mean, u-um, Mettaton said I should, but- but um, m-may-maybe he was just, u-uh exaggerating?” You stumble over your words pretty badly. Now you're certain that you’ve royally fucked things up. As if to confirm your thoughts, Sans walks over to you and you brace for impact. “I-I'm sorry!” Your eyes are closed making it so you can't see, but Sans is looking at you, concerned, wanting to ask what's wrong. He decides not to push. He just pats you on the shoulder and says “‘s a’ight. i probably should have asked mettaton if fancy clothing would suit this occasion.” You give a small smile at the pun.

“W-W-We should probably go. Don't want t-to keep Papyrus a-and Mettaton waiting.” Sans nods in agreement and walks with you to his car. The Sans drives, and the two of you ride to the restaurant, a place with a name you can't pronounce. Sans cracks a few jokes and puns, and you even respond with a couple of your own, making his already seemingly permanent grin even wider.

You arrive at the restaurant and, after you park, the two of you get out of the car and walk to the restaurant together. You suddenly realize something. Is this a platonic date? You don't know what to think anymore, and honestly, even if he does like you, do you even want to date? Are you ready, dater what happened last time? You don't have time to think too much, though, because as soon as you walk in you are stunned into silence. Mettaton wasn't kidding. This place is formal. And fancy. Very fancy. Like the kind of fancy where they serve caviar and truffles (the mushrooms) and fancy cheeses and names of foods you can’t even pronounce. Sans walks to the server waiting with menus and you follow.

“we’ve got a reservation under the name ‘mettaton,’” he says.  
“Alright, please, allow me to show you to your table, sir,” the waiter insisted. You see his glance quickly flicker over Sans’s sweatshirt, sweatpants, and slippers and for a mere moment, a smirk crossing his face, but it’s gone soon and the waiter’s practiced composure returns. He leads you through the restaurant, weaving between tables and booths, until you arrive at a table towards the middle right of the restaurant. And hoooly fuck even the tables are fancy. They’re made of dark wood with a golden, swirly, embossed outline. The chairs are made of the same dark wood to match the tables but the cushiony part on the sitting-down part and the back part is made of a soft, satiny black velvet material that makes you feel like you’re sitting on clouds. 

This restaurant must be so expensive… probably not in your budget… ok how thE FUCK will you pay for this? Just the cheapest appetizer alone costs $45. Nooooot cool not cool oh lord. You can’t just let Mettaton pay for the whole meal; you don’t want him to think you’re cheap or just plain rude. And then there’s the problem that YOU’RE ON A FUCKING DATE. Something that, please note, you haven’t done in 2 FUCKING YEARS. Hooooo boy this will not end well, no sir. You can’t date for a multitude of reasons. Of course there’s that one… person who you shall never ever speak of to anyone at any time ever, 2 years ago. And then there’s the fact that, even though you know there really aren’t many people like that person, and you know Sans definitely isn’t one of them, you still have serious trust issues and, according to the therapist you see on occasion, PTSD as well as multiple other mental illnesses. So that’s just great. No one really knows about it; although Temmie knows you have depression and anxiety, or at least has guessed, you still haven’t opened up to her other than hinting at the relationship between you and your ex (you hesitate to call him this, but) boyfriend. Plus, eventually you will trust someone enough to open up. You’ll trust them, and they’ll hurt you. They won’t be ready. They won’t be able to handle you, won’t be able to comfort you or help you. They won’t love you. You’ll trust them, they’ll leave, and they’ll hurt you. Just like every other time. 

It’s not you, it’s them/You just aren’t their type/They just aren’t feeling it/They don’t know how to help/talk with/deal with/put up with you. Everything good comes to an end, and it’s no different with people. You aren’t good enough for anyone, never will be. Sans’ll will peel away the layers of paint until he gets to the raw center, till everything, all the painted words and woven pictures, all the inked up scars and photographed memories spill out into his open hand and he decides that art just isn’t for him. But you can’t put back something you tore apart. It won’t be the same. The cracks will show, the glue will seep through them. It will never be as beautiful as it was before. He’ll see you, see all of you, every already-cracked piece, every beautifully worded lie, every single memory you’ve tried to forget and he’ll realize he never wanted this, never wanted to hold this burden.

You’ll be left for yourself, all alone and raw to the core.

You’ll be left behind. Forgotten. Torn to shreds.

Because eventually, you’ll break for the last time. You can’t fix what’s been broken too many times. And perhaps this is the last time. He’ll leave, everyone else will leave, and you’ll be left to crumble and fold in on yourself. Caving in until you’re just an empty shell. An ugly shell, left on the beach for the ocean to consume into its vast blankness. A plain white fragment, stepped on and tossed around by the Great Blue and everyone else. Not collected, nonono, not good enough for collection, for anyone. Not good enough not good enough notgoo denough notgoodenoughnotgoodenoughnotgoo

You haven’t realized it, but for the past 10 or so minutes you’ve been crying your eyes out. Sans is right beside you hugging you and comforting you in the only way he knows how- the generic “shhh, it’s okay, it’ll be okay” kind. You blink the tears out of your eyes and look through the blur. Where were you again? 

Oh.

ohHHHHH.

FUUUUUUUCKK you’re in the fancy restaurant. In the middle. With hundreds of rich, fancy people around you wearing fancy tuxes and dresses and fancy jewelry and fancy lives and they’re. All. Staring. At you. Some people wear sympathetic expressions on their faces while others are looking at each other, having silent conversations with their eyes. No doubt they’re about you, and by the looks of it, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows positivity. This is why you never go out. This is why you lock away your feelings until the night time when you’re all alone. To avoid this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea, it's pretty short. i hope you guys enjoyed it though ! the next chapter will be ~2000 ish words, don't worry. thank you !


	10. Starry Nights and Sleepovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans shows the reader some of those rad constellations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this will probably be it for a while. or maybe not ! i hope you like this chapter.

“_____? _____, are you okay? hey, hey, it’s alright. ____, please say something.” Sans has pulled away and is staring at you with an altruistic expression. You have to say something, but you’re at a loss for words.

“I…” you look around and, dear lord, you can’t help it. The tears come streaming down your face. Still, you don’t know what to say. “Oh god… O-O-Oh… I…”

 

“hey, hey! don’t worry. it’s okay. breathe, breathe, you’re okay, you’re safe. what’s wrong?”

He cares, you can see that. But you can’t tell anyone anything. So you say the only thing you can. The one word you’ve become familiar with. 

“S-sor-rry… I-I’m so sorry, th-this must b-b-be-e s-so em-embaras-ssing for you… o-oh my god… I’m so sorry.” You’re hiccupping and slurring your words. You’re sure no one can understand you.

“it’s okay, ______. you didn’t do anything wrong. please, tell me what’s wrong. i want to help you.”

“I…” You can’t do it. You start to stand up and try to leave, but Sans grabs your wrist, stopping you. He doesn’t grab you with force or strength. His grip is soft, willing to let you leave if you wish. His hands (bones? phalanges?) are so warm and, surprisingly, soft. 

“hey. let me drive you home. it’s okay. you’re okay now.” You nod and let him lead you out. You stare at his fuzzy pink slippers as they trot out the restaurant door in short steps. You don’t look back. Too much embarrassment.

You see something move in your peripheral vision and you turn your head. It’s… some creep in a hoodie. He turns his head towards you and… Oh dear lord, those eyes. Such a vibrant green. They remind you of-

oh FUCKING GOD CAN THIS NIGHT GET ANY FUCKING WORSE WHAT THE FUCK

The creep, who you can now identify as Assfuck, starts taking slow steps towards you and Sans. Sans doesn’t notice right away, at least not until you start running to the car and shouting.

“Sans! Hurry! Behind you!” Sans turns to look behind himself and sees the creep in the hoodie following him.

“what the fu-”

“Go, go, it doesn’t matter just go!” You aren’t stuttering. You climb into the passenger’s seat of the car and lock it. You look back and see Assfuck now running towards the car but Sans is… right beside you? Damn, he is extremely fast for someone who seems so lazy.

“_____, who is that?”

“It doesn’t matter, please just drive!” adrenaline is pumping through your veins. You have to get away. Not to your dorm, though. He’ll figure out you’re there. You have to go somewhere, though. Agh, but you’re already over halfway there! Fuck it, this night is already all kinds of messed up. What’s another question. Hyped up on adrenaline and false confidence, you turn to Sans. “I can’t go back to the dorms. He’ll know I’m there and figure out which one is mine.”

Sans swears under his breath. “who the hell was that? why was that creep following you?”

“I-I… I really don’t want to talk about it. He’s just n-not a g-good person. In a way, he-he’s really fucking t-terrifying. D-don’t make me talk about him. Please.” Sans hears the tears clogging your throat, choking up your voice, and decides to drop the topic.

“okay. okay! ummm, i’d take you to tori’s place, but uh, well, i’m pretty sure she’s still upset and probably pretty pissed at you too.” Figures. You royally fuck up everything in your life. “i guess you could stay with paps and me.”

whaaaat. no. nope. nuh uh too awkward. oh lord you can feel your face heating up. Your cheeks are hotter than the sun being blown up and then set on fire on top of the fire it’s already, well, set on. You look at Sans and see a cyan blush gracing his face. 

“we- we, uh,” he stutters. He stutters. Sans, the chillest skeleton on Earth is blushing and stuttering. Awwwww. NO STOP THAT STOP THINKING THAT WAY NOOOOOO. “we have a guest room, but undyne and alphys are, um, using it. so, uh, you might have to sleep on the couch, or i guess you could maybe take m-my room and i’ll sleep on the couch or-”

 

“Th-the couch is fine! Please d-don’t make a b-big f-f-fuss ab-bout me, I r-really don’t wanna b-be any trouble!” God, could this be anymore awkward?

“ya sure? it really wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Y-yes! Yeah. It’s really n-no problem. I d-d-don’t mind at a-all-” what are you doing. what on this rocky planet are you doing, _______? You can’t stay with them! You barely know them! What the hell are you thinking?! But you know you can’t go back to the dorms. Assfuck will have followed you at least partly, until you guys passed the halfway mark to the dorms. Ha, tricked him. He’ll think you’re staying there, wait a bit until he thinks Sans is gone, and knock until he figures out which room is yours.

“_______? you there?” Aaaaand you were in your thoughts again. You shake your head to refocus your eyes.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

“hey, it’s fine. don’t worry about it. so, uh, do you wanna quick stop at your dorm to get your laptop anything? we have some spare blankets and pillows back at the house, but you can just bring your own if you want to.”

“u-um, sure, but the c-creep from b-b-back a-at the r-restaurant will probably b-be waiting so you can j-just wait in th-the car so we c-can leave right away?”

“sure, sure. okay. any chance you’ll tell me who he is?”

Don’t tell him. Don’t. Tell. Him.

“I… I-I don’t really wanna talk ab-bout it. I’m sorry.”

“mkay.” He drops the subject and an extremely awkward silence falls in the car. You pull out your phone. Your phone is a coping mechanism of sorts and you take it everywhere you go. Unfortunately… It’s at 2%. Wow. What even is life anymore. You turn your phone off and put it back in your purse. Sans clears his throat uncomfortable. 

And so continues the awkward silence. You tighten your seatbelt and turn out to stare out the car window and… the sight is breathtaking. There’s a 10 minute stretch of countryside between the city where the restaurant is and your campus. There are very few street lights and even fewer cars. The stars are beautiful tonight; there are few clouds. You press your forehead to the window and tip your head up…

“the moon’s pretty cool tonight, eh, kid?” Sans says with a chuckle. You roll your eyes when he calls you ‘kid’, but turn your head away more so he doesn’t notice. You nod your head, but quickly realize that he can’t really see that.

“Mhmm…” you breathe softly. And it is. It’s a full moon, but for whatever reason, it looks twice as big as usual. It shines around and casts a slight glow on the road in front the car. Soon, though, you guys are back in the city and coming up close to campus. The streetlights drown out most of the light from the stars and dim the moon.

As Sans pulls up to the side of your dorm, you glance back at him, prepared to tell him you’ll be back soon…

He’s staring at you. He looks away almost as soon as you turn your head, but you catch a glimpse of his face. His cheeks are dusted with a familiar light blue, and he’s biting his lip. You probably have something on your face, or your makeup’s running from that awful breakdown earlier,, making you look comparable to someone from a horror movie. 

“U-uhm… I’ll b-be back in l-like t-t-ten m-minutes…” you manage to squeak out, embarrassed about whatever it is that made him stare. You open the car door, step out, and close it, avoiding eye contact. 

You start walking to the door but soon worry that maybe you’re walking too slow, so you half jog-half walk before thinking that that probably looks weird and start walking again, just faster. You manage to make it through the door with no major issues (whew, what a relief.) You hurry to the stairs and climb the quick flight to your floor, dash to your room, and scan your id card that works as a key. The following 5 minutes are a frenzy you don’t wish to relive, trying to find the clothes you’d need tonight and tomorrow morning in the dark to avoid waking Tem; getting your toothbrush and toothpaste and all of that; trying to find a bag to pack it all in, and leaving quietly- or as quietly as possible… before remembering a few other things you needed and going in AGAIN to get them, leaving, remembering another thing, going in, forgetting what that thing was, and deciding to leave without it. 

You race back down the stairs and to the door, checking your watch as you do- it’s been nearly a half hour- and taking a moment to fix your posture and walk calmly- or at least something resembling calmly- out the door and back to the waiting car.

“ready?” sans asks, his typical half-smirk pasted on his face.

“Y-yeah. Sorry about the long wait,” you reply apologetically.

“‘s all good. didn’t even notice the time.” Okay. Now you know he’s lying. Clearing your throat, you pause for a second, about to apologize again before scolding yourself. Another apology might make it weird. Before you know it, you’re overthinking again. It’s just a simple apology. Does it matter whether you say it or not? But you already apologized. 

Sans coughs. Of course, you manage to overthink that too. Was that a genuine cough? A cough of uncomfort? You may never know. You’re becoming increasingly aware that you’ve been standing here, probably staring at him, for at least 15 seconds. You hastily get in the car, face flushed, trying to avoid further awkwardness. Or at least, trying to avoid as much awkwardness as you can.

Sans drives the car in near silence. At least until you reach the stretch of countryside, when he pulls over.

Oh fuck, oh everloving fuck. What is he doing? Your anxiety spikes. Why are you so stupid? Why would you trust him? You have the premonition that something bad is gonna happen. Or maybe it’s just your anxiety and issues with trust. He’s been nice so far; maybe he has to add gas to the tank or something?

Your eyes refocus after you realize you had started to space out from anxiety for the umpteenth time that day. You’ve barely been breathing. Your heart had started pounding hard. You-can-see-your-chest-moving-slightly hard. This wasn’t even that big of a deal!

Maybe.

Struggling to get out of what will surely be a spiral, you take a deep breath. And another. You turn to look at Sans. He’s looking at you, nonexistent eyebrows knitted together (is that even possible?) to reveal slight concern. When you turn to face him, his grin widens.

“hey, kid. i’m not sure exactly what happened at the restaurant today, but it didn’t seem like you had a good time. ‘m real sorry about that.” he tells you.

“It was n-nothing,” you reassure him. Of course, it probably isn’t that reassuring. “I’m s-so sorry you had to see that. It won’t happen again I promise I’m so sorry I’m sor-”

“hey hey hey. kiddo. it’s okay. just breathe,” Sans interrupts you. You take a few more deep breaths. He turns away from you and looks straight ahead through the windshield for a few moments. Suddenly he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door, letting in the cool air. He steps out and walks around to the passenger’s side, opening your door too. Shit. What the hell is he doing? You take the hint and unbuckle your own seatbelt, hesitantly stepping out of the car. 

“c’mon. i wanna show you something.” He leads you off the road onto a patch of grass. Sitting down, he pats the ground next to him, signalling you to sit down with him. You do, shaking from both the cold and the anxiety. He lays back on the grass- it’s surprisingly soft!- and you follow his lead. After a couple seconds of silence, he talks, voice uncharacteristically soft and comforting. “see those three stars in a diagonal line?” He points vaguely up at the sky. Your eyes search the navy blue ocean littered with stars. 

“I-I think so. Yeah.”  
His finger moves slightly. “and above that, a bit to the left.” 

You nod, realize he probably couldn’t see you nod, and quickly reply with “mhm.” 

He points below the three stars. “below the three stars, to the right a bit. they’re really faint, but there are three more stars going down diagonally.” You wait for him to explain.

“that’s orion. the constellation. ‘s one of my favourite ones.” 

“Orion?” you ask, a bit confused.

“yea. the three stars were his skirt, the one star at the top his sword, and the three smaller stars his leg. orion was a hunter.”

“Huh,” you breathe out softly. He points out a few other stars. 

“right there. they form a W- that’s cassiopeia. the queen from the greek myths.” he continues to point out different constellations- ursa major and minor, the big and little dipper, cygnus- and gives the background about them. He seems to know a lot about astronomy!

“the countryside is great on clear nights like this. no light pollution or sound pollution...” He sighs contentedly. The two of you lay and stare at the sky for a while longer before he groggily sits back up. 

“we should probably head back.”

 

You get up silently and walk back to the car with him, strangely calm. You guess the stars just had that effect on you. Or maybe it’s him- nope. Not gonna go there.

The rest of your ride to sans’ house is quiet, but more of a comfortable quiet with the occasional pun or ten. You made it through the day, no matter how shitty it was. It’s going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ! comments, feedback, criticism, and suggestions are always welcome !


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